#I just love Cas and suffer because he suffers alone

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Look Alike

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous (x3)

Warnings: eating disorder, mentions of depression, attempted murder, I didn’t copy the episode exactly so probably some mistakes

Synopsis: an angel is going around killing anyone who is suffering—but what happens when it goes after you?

A/N: this one is kinda heavy guys, so if this is a topic that will trigger you PLEASE do not read it. And please remember—I think you’re beautiful, and always remember to eat something, even if it’s just a snack, even if it’s not “good for you”; eating something just because you like how it tastes is better than not eating anything at all. Love you guys!

Your fingers fumbled as they retrieved your picture of Mary Winchester, tattered and faded at the edges. You looked from the picture to your own reflection, your heart plummeting.

Your mother had this…this look about her; she was slender and beautiful, but also strong. Strong enough to be a hunter.

You looked at your own reflection again before ducking your head, tucking Mary’s photo back into your wallet.

“Hey kid.” Dean’s voice in your doorway startled you, and you whipped your head around. “Lunch is ready, let’s go…what are you doing in here?”

“Oh, no-nothing,” you muttered, your hands fidgeting. “I’m not that hungry right now, maybe I’ll get something later.”

“Did you eat breakfast?” Dean asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Um—actually, maybe I will eat now.” you sidestepped his question and his body as you headed for the kitchen. Dean dropped the subject, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You were going to have to be more careful about your eating habits—or lack thereof.

Of course Dean had made burgers again. You looked to Sam, hoping he’d made something else, but he was happily chowing down on a huge hamburger—apparently he didn’t mind them if they didn’t come from greasy diners.

You forced yourself not to huff; it was impossible to pretend to eat a burger, so you’d really have to eat this time.

“Here.” Dean pushed a plate at you, and you took it without protest.

You managed to choke down about two bites before Dean got a phone call. He spoke for a few minutes before hanging up and addressing his younger siblings.

“Cas has a case. I’m gonna go check it out.”

“A case?” You put down your burger. “I’ll go pack.”

“I can take this one alone,” Dean assured you.

“Don’t be stupid, I’m coming.” You started for the door, hoping he wouldn’t argue.

“You’re not gonna finish your food?” Sam asked.

“I had enough,” you assured him, and ran off before he could argue.

…

“So…he exploded.” Dean was staring around at the pink living room, a grimace on his face.

“Yeah. So completely that there’s not a bit of him left that’s bigger than a grain of sand,” a nearby officer said. Once the officer stepped away, Dean spoke to you. “I’m gonna go talk to Cas, see what he can tell me. You should stay at the motel, read up on some things.”

“Ok.” You shrugged. “Call me if you find anything out.”

“Deal.”

…

“Ephraim.”

“Gazuntite.”

“No, Dean. Ephraim was—is—an angel, his job on the battlefield was to end the suffering of dying angels.”

“End the suffering…let me guess, by blowing them up?” Dean said.

“Unfortunately, yes. It seems that he’s continuing his mission on earth.”

“Yeah, but these people aren’t dying, they just had a bad day.”

“Apparently Ephraim can’t tell the difference between emotional suffering and…”

“And dying?” Dean scoffed. “Cas, this is crazy. Everybody has bad days, this guy is gonna end up wiping out the world.”

“It’s more than just bad days,” Castiel argued. “These people were in serious emotional turmoil. But you’re right—you need to find him.”

“You’re not gonna help?” Dean challenged.

“Dean, I’m just human. There’s nothing I can do.”

…

You stared at the takeout container that Dean had got you before dropping you off. You couldn’t refuse, you knew he would start to notice if you refused too many meals, but you still didn’t want it.

Your stomach growled, and you cringed. Maybe part of you wanted it.

You pushed the container away, opting instead to don workout clothes—the motel had a gym. You’d never be able to be a hunter like Mary, you’d never be able to keep up with your brothers, if you didn’t workout more.

After an hour on the treadmill, you decided it was time to get back to work. You didn’t want to leave Dean in the lurch when it came to research, even if he hadn’t told you any more information. He got this way when he took you on hunts—determined to do it all alone, not clueing you in on anything.

It’s because you don’t look like a hunter yet.

You swallowed hard. You may not look like a hunter yet, but you would soon enough. You just had to skip a few more meals, go a few more days, and then—just maybe—you could be a good hunter. You would look like Mary did, strong and in shape, and your brothers would trust you more.

You slipped back into your room, going straight for your bag to get your picture of Mary. You held it up for the millionth time, looking from it to the mirror. Your heart sank—you weren’t Mary; maybe you never would be.

Your stomach growled again, and you huffed.

“No,” you told yourself. Your eyes flickered over to the takeout container. You snatched it off the table and threw it into the trash. “No!”

You couldn’t give up now—who cared if you were hungry? Sam and Dean gave up a lifetime of sleep to keep hunting, you could skip some meals to do the same. You had to.

You hadn’t even noticed that you were crying until a few tears dropped onto Mary’s smiling face in your hands.

“Mom,” you whimpered. “Why can’t I just be like you?”

“I can help you.” The voice behind you startled you, and you dropped Mary’s photo, whirling around and reaching for the gun at your waist and.

“Who are you?” You demanded, raising the weapon.

“That won’t do anything to me,” the man insisted. “And you don’t need it. I’m here to help you. You’re suffering, and I’m here to end it.”

“End it?” You took a step back. “You’re the guy we’re after. You’re the one who killed that man, and that teenager.”

“I ended their suffering,” the man continued, stepping towards you. “And I can end yours.”

“It’s not like that!” The gun was shaking in your hands. You didn’t bother to shoot, knowing it wouldn’t help. “I’m not dying!”

“You are,” he argued. “I can heal your hunger, but I cannot make you eat. But the end I will give you will be painless.”

“What are you?” You demanded, taking another step back. Your back hit the sharp edge of a splintered desk, halting your movements.

“I am an angel. My mission is to end suffering. Let me end yours.”

“An angel, huh.” You put your gun down on the desk as if in defeat. While Ephraim kept his attention on your face, you moved your hand down to the splintered edge of the table and slid it across, drawing blood. Dropping your hand out of sight behind the desk, you began to draw an angel banishing sigil.

Ephraim moved before you could blink, grabbing your wrist and twisting it away from the desk.

“Don’t fight it,” he said. “I can help you.” His free hand was suddenly above you, lowering towards your forehead like death’s scythe.

“Hey!” The grip on you was released at the sound of Dean’s voice in the doorway. “Leave her alone!” Dean had his angel blade out and pointed at Ephraim. “You don’t get to just kill people because they’re hurting.”

“That’s exactly what I was made for,” Ephraim argued. “You didn’t even know she was suffering, but I do! And I can fix it!”

“That’s now how you fix it!” Dean thundered. He lunged forward, stabbing at Ephraim with the blade, but the angel side stepped him and flung him into the wall with a single flick of his wrist. The angel blade clattered to the ground, and you once again found yourself face-to-face with the murderous angel.

“Please,” you pleaded. “Look, I know you think you’re doing good. But humans—they hurt sometimes. But we can do better—I can do better—we’re all just doing the best we can.”

“If this is the best that you can do.” Ephraim shook his head. “Then this is what you need.” He stretched out his hand, and your breath caught in your throat.

You jumped back in surprise when Ephraim’s eyes glowed brightly, his jaw hanging open before he slumped to the ground. Dean stood behind him, a bloody angel blade gripped in his hand.

“That’s not what she needs,” he growled almost to himself. Then his eyes were on you. “Are you ok?”

You nodded shakily, taking a deep breath.

“Ok.” Dean dropped the angel blade. “Now what was that about? Why did he think—“

“I-I don’t know.” You couldn’t meet Dean’s eyes.

“Well what—“ Dean’s voice caught, and you looked up to see him staring at the corner of the room. You followed his gaze, and your stomach dropped. He was staring at the tiny garbage can in the corner, the open and full takeout container fully visible.

“Kid.” Dean swallowed. “When was the last time you ate? And no, that one bite of your burger didn’t count.” Dean’s eyes were on you now, and he petrified you to the spot with his gaze. “I mean when was the last time you really ate?”

“I—um…” your lip quivered and your hands began to fidget. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Ok, hey.” Dean pulled you into his arms when you started to cry. “I’ve got you kid.” He pulled away, brushing your tears. “Why are you doing this kid?”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, wiping at your face. “Dean—“ your voice caught and you choked on a sob.

“Ok, ok,” Dean soothed. “It’s ok, let’s…let’s go back home, ok? We can talk about it later. Go and wait in the car, I’ll bring the stuff.”

You went to the car without argument, and after you left Dean called Sam.

“Hey,” Dean huffed while he gathered the guns and clothes and tossed them in his bag. “Do you remember the last time you saw Y/N eat? Like, like a full meal.”

“Um…” Sam’s voice came out surprised and hesitant. “No.” Realization hit him. “No, I don’t. Dean, what’s going on?”

“I don’t think she’s eating. Ephraim…Ephraim tried to kill her.”

“I thought you said he only killed people who were…” Sam swallowed. “Who were really broken up, right?”

“Yeah.” Dean stopped packing long enough to clench and unclench his fist. “Yeah. She’s suffering, Sam, and we didn’t even know it. She stopped eating and we didn’t see.”

“Dean…” Dean heard Sam’s deep breath through the phone. “I’m…I’m gonna do some research while you get here. Try and talk to her on the ride home, ok? Maybe…we’ve gotta help her, Dean.”

“I know. We’ll be back in a couple hours.” Dean hung up, taking a deep breath. “Ok,” he said to himself, zipping up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He stopped in his tracks when he saw a picture in the middle of the floor. He stooped to pick it up—it was Mary, when she wasn’t much older than you. Dean tucked it into his back pocket. “Ok.”

…

“Hey kid,” Dean greeted as he tossed his bag in the back. Your knees were pulled up to your chest, and you didn’t acknowledge him.

Dean let silence reign as he started up the Impala and headed down the road—he couldn’t force you to talk.

“I just wanted to look like her,” you said suddenly, your head resting against your knees.

Dean turned his head to look at you. “What?”

“Mom. I don’t look like her. She was such a good hunter, and I just wanted to be like that.”

“Kiddo—“ Dean’s voice caught. “Kid, you don’t have to look like her to be a good hunter.”

“But I can’t keep up with you.” You sniffled. “I thought if I looked like her…I could keep up with you.”

“When we were your age, we couldn’t have kept up with us,” Dean argued. “Besides, this isn’t…you don’t become a better hunter by starving yourself, kid.”

Dean watched out of the corner of his eye as your fingers clenched on your jeans, bunching up the fabric before you let it go. When you spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know how to stop.”

Dean forced himself to breathe through the pain, taking a moment before offering you a strong smile.

“That’s what we’re here for, kid. Me and Sammy are gonna help you.”

…

“Hey.” Sam’s hug when you stepped into the bunker was surprising and long. You heard Dean’s huff from behind you, but Sam ignored him.

“Hi.” Your greeting was muffled against Sam’s jacket, and he finally pulled away.

“Ok, so um, I’ve been doing some research, so I’ll show you what I got.” Sam reached behind him, picking up printouts from the internet. “I have a list of foods that are supposed to help, and um, I also made up a schedule—that’s supposed to make it easier—and if there’s any specific food you want me to pick up when I go out you can tell me. Or hey, you can just come with me and pick stuff out and—“

“Hey, dude,” Dean cut in with another huff. “I told you not to freak her out about this.”

“I’m not freaking her out!” Sam’s eyes went back to you. “Wait, am I freaking you out?”

“Um…” you picked at your hands. “It…it’s a lot…”

“We’ll start out small,” Dean insisted. “You want some toast?”

“Bread is good,” Sam piped up, holding up one of the research pages.

“Toast sounds good.” Your lips twitched up even as your eyes filled with tears.

“Hey, ok.” Dean’s arms were around you suddenly. “You got this, ok? We’re right here to help you.”

“Ok,” you sniffled.

Dean pulled away. “Ok. Now let’s get you something to eat, and then Sam can freak you out about everything he read.”

Sam opened his mouth, then closed it.

“I think I can do that,” you sniffled.

“I know you can.” Dean grinned. “Oh, hey—“ Dean reached into his back pocket and pulled out your picture of Mary. “This is yours.” You took it with a shaky hand, and when you looked back up Dean was bending down to stare into your eyes. “Hey. You’re just as pretty as mom. And she…she would want you to take care of yourself, ok? And so would dad. And so do we. Kapeesh?”

You threw your arms around Dean.

“Kapeesh,” you told him.

“Ok.” Dean pulled away, reaching up and brushing a stray tear off your face. “Now let’s go get that toast.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810

[dracowars]

of kings and queens | halbrand

pairing: halbrand x númenorean!princess!reader

word count: 6,6k

summary: where halbrand and y/n are forced to marry and he unveils a world she's only ever dreamed of

a/n: how do i manage to make it longer every time you ask?? i have no idea, i just go with the flow & suddenly i'm at 6k~ i have been struggeling with this one but i'm proud of how it ultimately turned out!! feedback is always appreciated and thank you for all the love <3

warnings: angst, forced marriage, panic attack, mentions of sickness, soft sauron

universe: the rings of power

"I won't marry a stranger!", you loudly cry out in anger and slam your fists on the table with all your might, the sheer force of it causing some of the parchments to fall to the marble floor.

"He is no stranger. He is the King of the Southlands", your sister, Queen-Regent Míriel, tells you matter-of-factly.

"Who told you that? The elf?", you spit out, the blood running through your veins seething with anger. "Just a few days have gone by since he was detained in one of our cells, and now he is being hailed as a long-lost king? Do you even listen to yourself?"

"Sister-"

"Don't 'sister' me right now."

Míriel takes a deep breath, resting her weight on the table with both arms, and lowers her head as if she needs a moment to avoid lashing out on you in the same manner you are currently displaying.

"Listen. A marriage like this would rekindle and strengthen the bond between the people of Middle-earth and our kind for generations to come", she explains, her voice calm, but you know her well enough to notice that she has to pull herself together.

"Very well, go ahead and marry him then", you counter and give her a challenging look, the one you have been giving her since you were children. "Why should I be the one to suffer?"

"As the Princess of Númenor, it is your duty to prioritize the welfare of your people over your own!", she yells at you now, her nostrils flaring. You'd be lying if you said you didn't flinch a little when she raised her voice. Usually, it takes longer to unsettle her.

Elendil, who is standing at the large doors to the room, also seems a little shocked. As the two exchange a tender look, however, Míriel's features relax again and she straightens up, slipping back into the role of the wise, majestic Queen-Regent of Númenor.

"I won't accept no for an answer", she tells you, all calm and collected again. No trace left of your loving sister whom you loved so much.

"You have held me captive within these castle's walls for longer than I know and now you wish to ship me off like that?", you scoff in disbelief, crossing your arms in front of your chest, trying to mask how much she's hurting you right now.

"You wanted freedom. Here I am granting it to you."

"This is not freedom", you express your words through gritted teeth, your eyes burning with tears as your words have no effect on Míriel. "You think you can still control me like a child. But you no longer hold any power over me. I won't let you dictate the course of my life."

To emphasize your point, you grab the unassuming tiara adorning your head, smaller and thus in stark contrast to your sister's, and forcefully hurl it to her feet. Several small diamonds come loose and the sound of them scattering around the marble floor makes you shiver.

"I don't care who he is", you say angrily, your hands clenched into fists at your sides while Míriel only looks at you in shock, her eyes wide. "I won't marry someone I don't know, let alone love."

With these final words, you turn away and walk towards the door, which Elendil quickly opens for you. On his face, you clearly see that he feels sorry about how this whole situation expired. But you don't need his pity.

You stomp out angrily, holding back your tears, your pulse pounding in your ears. You have never told her what you think before. You have always done what she asked of you, been a good little sister because you can only imagine the burden she is carrying. But today she has crossed a line.

When you turn around in the hallway one last time, catching a glimpse of Míriel through the closing door, you see Elendil carefully approaching her to comfort her. From this perspective, she looks exhausted, hurt even. But all you feel towards her is anger. You can't help but roll your eyes and release a heavy breath of air from your lungs.

Undoubtedly, that is the reason why she wants you to marry Lord Halbrand. Because her heart is already taken.

You think back to times when you would have been overjoyed, when you would have been genuinely happy for her. You two would have lain on soft pillows and talked about everything, every little detail. Now, you can find none of these feelings inside of you.

Completely lost in your thoughts, you walk through the large halls of the castle, your home. A home that feels much more like a prison. With your head low, you turn a corner and suddenly collide with a hard wall. Caught off guard, you stumble back until a hand closes around your wrist and holds you tight.

You forget to breathe for a moment when your gaze meets his.

"Whoa there. Where are you headed, my lady?", Lord Halbrand asks you in surprise, a gentle smile on his face as he holds you close, his touch on your skin burning. As soon as you notice this, you break free from his grip and take your distance, smoothing down your dress, which he only comments on with a frown.

He is the last person you want to talk to right now.

"Are you all right?", he asks you with concern in his voice, making you realize that you haven't given him an answer and just stood there in silence. In fact, you don't really have anything to say to him. You just wish he would go back to Middle-earth where he belongs.

"Yes", you finally answer, coldly and curtly. "Now if you'll excuse me."

You walk past him, your shoulders almost touching, and listen to your own loud footsteps echoing through the halls as you walk down the corridor.

"Your demeanour leads me to believe that the Queen-Regent informed you of our plans", his voice calls after you, suddenly bringing you to an abrupt halt.

Our plans? That means they have been talking about this behind your back for who knows how long. You were deemed to lose from the beginning. As always.

"She did", you say, slowly turning around and towards him. He hasn't moved from the spot where you left him moments ago, but his presence fills the entire hallway anyway.

The way he stands there and looks at you, as if you were fragile and pitiable, makes the anger inside of you boil up once more and you walk towards him. Instead of taking a step back, however, he takes one towards you so that he is now towering over you with all his height.

"Listen to my words: I don't know what exactly you hope to achieve with this.. marriage. But it will never happen. I will not marry you", you tell him clearly, emphasizing the last words by poking your index finger into his chest. You don't give him time to answer, but as you turn around you notice the knowing grin that plays around his lips.

You decide not to respond to this and move away from him entirely. As soon as you turn into the next corridor, you finally feel like you can breathe again. At least as much as is possible for you within these walls.

You haven't been able to breathe properly in here for a long time.

You walk to your room, two guards posted on either side of the massive doors, and let yourself through without a word. Once inside, you find your way directly to the balcony, which overlooks the entire city and the harbour. The wind blows through your hair and creates a sad smile on your lips. From up here, you can hear nothing but the wind, the people frolicking down there nothing more than tiny black dots. A single tear finds its way down your cheek and you don't bother to wipe it away. Rather, you are amazed that you can even cry at all after all the tears you have already shed here.

You don't know if it is at that moment, or before, when you threw your crown at Míriel's feet, but you make a decision.

With a goal in mind, you go back inside, into the huge room you call your own and search through several closets until you find what you are looking for. You swap your beautifully ornamented dress for a more simple one, get rid of all your jewelry and put your hair into a casual updo. On the way to the door, your own reflection briefly looks back at you from the mirror across the room and you pause as you look at yourself.

Nothing is left of the little girl who once had dreams and pursued goals.

Taking another deep breath, you open the door and step out. The guards bow, as they always do when they see you.

"I'm going to pay a visit to my father", you explain to them, which they confirm with a short nod. They are about to follow you, but seem to remember that you are now allowed to walk around without guards constantly at your side, at least within the castle's walls. A change that hasn't been in effect for very long.

Nevertheless, you quicken your pace once you are out of their reach, afraid that they will decide to follow you after all. On your way, you make sure to avoid the maids and other guards, hiding behind corners, holding your breath. When you finally arrive at the stairs to the tower that lead up to your father, you stop hesitantly. But it only takes a moment, remembering your conversation with Míriel and all the other terrible events of the past, for you to regain your strength and turn away. With quick steps, you take the next set of stairs that lead down.

As you arrive in corridors that lead to the kitchen and staff facilities, you pay close attention to every little noise. Your heart is pounding so hard against your chest that you feel like it can be heard echoing throughout the corridors. You put your shaking hands against the spot where your heart is and try to calm yourself down. You've never tried to break out of this prison before, you always thought you were here for your own good. But you know better now. The thought of the outside world, which you have encountered so rarely in your life, scares you beyond belief either way.

Your sister's words still roam around your mind, making you clench your fists, until you gather up all your courage. Finally, you make it out of one of the doors, out into the fresh air that greets you lovingly.

However, you have no time to linger and quickly move forward, with careful steps as not to alert anyone. As you walk, you pull a cloth out of the corset of your dress that you had previously hidden there. In one swift motion, you pull it over your head and hide your face behind the fabric, only your eyes visible now.

With these safety measures in place, you make your way to the harbour, away from the castle. The entrances for the staff are guarded, but because of your disguise they let you pass. Once you slip past them, you are immediately surprised by the number of people walking through the streets. The sun is already setting on the horizon and the warm light of lanterns illuminates the alleyways.

With a gentle smile, you watch as two children whirl around, holding dolls that they chase each other with. You follow the mass of people who probably want to celebrate the end of their day in one of the taverns. The closer you get to the center of the city, the market square, the louder and more crowded it becomes. You hear them talking, laughing with each other, arguments are being settled, some young girls dance in the middle of a crowd of people who happily watch and applaud.

Despite the positive and joyful atmosphere, you are overcome by a feeling of sadness and sorrow all of a sudden. These people are your people - and you never get to see them. They don't get to see you unless they enter the castle, and that is something only a few people are allowed to do, reserved especially for the nobles and those of higher rank. But what makes you even sadder is the fact that very few of them even care for you. You are second in line to the throne. Once your father leaves this world, Míriel will be their Queen. Accordingly, interest in you is quite low. You are not even sure they would recognize you if you took off your disguise.

The sad truth is that they wouldn't, and that hurts more than you thought. And these are the people you are supposed to give your life for.

Suddenly everything becomes too much for you. Your ears are ringing, your heart is pounding, your whole body is shaking. No matter where you look, there are crowds of people everywhere. You feel small, constricted, helpless. You are carelessly pushed to the side, shoved forward. Your feet are stepped on, no one apologizes. You try to break out of the crowd, but your head is spinning and you no longer know which direction to go. Your breathing is getting faster and louder by the second. Nobody notices, nobody shows even the slightest hint of interest in you.

When you feel your legs giving way beneath you, you are suddenly grabbed by the arm and pulled into an alley.

You are terrified when you realize that you cannot defend yourself, your body is completely frozen and does not listen to your commands. Only when you feel a gentle hand on your cheek - the cloth must have come loose in all the chaos - and look up do you let out a breath that you didn't even know you were holding in. Lord Halbrand is standing in front of you, his face painted in concern as he looks you up and down.

"What are you doing out here all alone, Princess?", he asks and quickly grabs a hold of your shoulder as you start to drift away again, your legs no longer able to hold you upright. Exhausted, you lean against the stone wall behind you and close your eyes. You don't like that he sees you like this. On the other hand, he just saved you and prevented you from fainting in the middle of a crowd.

"I.. don't know", you whisper in defeat and it takes all your strength to admit it.

"What were you even thinking?", he says quietly, more to himself than to you. It feels like he doesn't want to scold you, but on the other hand he also does want to.

You look into his eyes, his face bathed in warm light from the soft candlelight of the lanterns around you. The wounds that are covering his skin have slowly healed, but even in this dim light you still notice them. Only now, when staring at him, do you realize that he is distracting you from all the noise and hustle, faded into the background.

"Come. I'll escort you back to the castle", he finally offers, his hands still on your shoulders as if he doesn't dare let go of you, afraid that you'll drift into the darkness at any moment.

Once again, you don't react and only stare at him, making the worry on his face deepen. In the meantime, you just can't wrap your head around how a Southlander like him, a low man, who barely knows you and who you've met with nothing but hatred, is worried about you while the people around you, your kind, are far away from even remotely caring about you.

"Can you walk on your own?", he asks, and when you finally nod in agreement, he lets go of you. But not for long, because after he puts the cloth back in its place to cover your features one of his hands wraps around yours and holds it tightly in his grip as he pulls you behind him, up several steps that lead further away from the cheerful scene.

You are grateful that he doesn't ask any questions, doesn't want to know why you were out here in the first place.

"Thank you."

That makes him pause for a moment and his hand applies a little more pressure on yours. In response, he turns to you with a gentle smile and lowers his head in resignation.

For some inexplicable reason, your heart suddenly skips a beat. He doesn't seem to notice the change in your face, however, and walks on. Together you make your way through the winding streets and you are amazed at how well he already knows his way around. You have to admit that it also hurts. After just a few days he's already more familiar with this city than you are.

You can already see the entrance to the castle when Lord Halbrand halts in his step, forcing you to stop as well. Turning to you, he steps closer and lifts your hand. Then, he gently places his other hand on top of it.

"I don't know what you were doing out there", he starts, looking from your hand between his to your eyes. "But rest assured that I'll keep it to myself."

The relief you feel in that moment is indescribable. If your sister found out you had escaped, she would surely reinforce all safety measure to protect you. This feeling doesn't last long, however, when another emotion suddenly overshadows it once he continues speaking.

"A princess like you doesn't belong out here."

He may not notice it, but these words hurt you deeply and make your eyes burn with tears within seconds. Without hesitation, you snatch your hand from him and put some distance between you by taking a few steps back. Your knees still feel weak, but you don't let it show. Lord Halbrand's face meets yours with incomprehension as you do so.

"I know where I belong", you spit out angrily and straighten up. For a moment you actually thought there might be more hidden beneath his facade. Oh, how wrong you were.

With these last words, you leave him standing there and walk the last few meters to the castle without him. Once again, you sneak through the staff quarters into the castle. Although you don't want to admit it, the walls suddenly give you comfort, making you feel safe and protected.

You quickly blink away a few tears and return to your chambers, where you go straight to bed. Even though you are incredibly exhausted and drained, you don't sleep all night. You toss and turn in the sheets, your mind plagued by nightmares until you hear the birds outside singing.

════════════

Annoyed, you slam the door to your chambers shut behind you and lean against it with a huff. Then you slide down to the cold ground and pull your knees closer to you, hugging them against your body.

Once again you tried to talk to your sister. Once again she dismissed your words as if they were worthless.

And that's exactly how you feel right now: worthless. Born into a life that brings you nothing but suffering and pain.

Ever since you were born, you were the one who would never ascend the throne. Who would never rule. And you never wanted to. You would never want to be your sister. But right now, you wish that you were both just born into a normal family, with no wealth or power. At the end of the day, she is still your big sister, the one who has always watched over you. Your mother dead, your father long bedridden - she is the only family you have left.

You miss the times when everything was peaceful. Happy times long gone when two sisters were inseparable. But the years made you believe that this world is not made for anyone to be happy.

You lower your head and let the sadness wash over you like waves finally bringing down a ship, and tears stream down your cheeks. Your body shakes, but you hold back any sobs, crying in silence.

You don't know how long you sat there, alone with your thoughts, the very last tear leaving your eye, but eventually something catches your attention. Something that reflects the light from across the room, lying on your vanity table that wasn't there when you left in the morning. Slowly, you get up and walk over, only to discover a beautiful brooch on top of a small piece of parchment. The design is that of a sun and the brooch is decorated with white and blue diamonds. It's breathtaking to look at.

You glance at the black ink on the parchment and your heart involuntarily jumps once more. The words read: 'Forgive me'.

When you suddenly hear footsteps behind you, however, you don't have time to think about these words any further. In one quick movement, you take an ornate dagger out of one of the drawers and turn in the direction of the noises. What you don't expect, however, is that Lord Halbrand emerges from the shadows behind your bed.

"H-How did you get in here? Who let you in?", you ask, out of breath, your heart pounding. The dagger in your hand is still raised, even as he approaches you. He doesn't say anything, however, just stands in front of you and slowly grabs your hand, which is tightly gripping the weapon. He lowers your joined hands and carefully removes the dagger from your grip, leaning over you to gently place it on the table.

"I was uncertain if my apology would be deemed acceptable, hence I wanted to see you in person to make sure", his soft voice sounds in your ear and sends a shiver down your spine. He is definitely too close to you right now and even though you'd never admit it, it doesn't feel uncomfortable. You look straight into his shining eyes which are not quite blue and not quite green but something in the middle. You swallow because the intensity in his gaze leaves you speechless.

"Get off me", you manage to croak out, sounding anything but convincing. Lord Halbrand notices this too, a smirk playing around his lips.

"I know you don't mean that, Princess. And that, deep down, you have already forgiven me", he breathes in a deeper voice than before and brushes a strand of hair from your face. In an instant, you grab his wrist and stop him from touching you any further. Because you know exactly what his touch does to you. And you simply cannot and do not want to acknowledge that you like what he does.

So far, every encounter with him was exhilarating, thrilling, like you were finally embarking on a long-awaited adventure. He awakens feelings you have kept locked away for a long time, sealed behind thick iron bars. Brick by brick, he slowly destroys the protective walls you have built around your heart.

It scares you.

"Lord Halbrand", you say more seriously now and stare directly into his beautiful eyes while he does not even try to free himself from your grip. "Get out of this room or I will call the guards and have you removed."

At that threat, Lord Halbrand lets out a quiet chuckle and removes his hand from your tight grip with ease.

"Before long, I will become your husband. It's time for you to get used to my presence, my lady", he states and the fury that rises in your eyes at his words is unmistakable. "I am aware that this.. arrangement may not be something you look forward to, but I suggest that you begin to come to terms with it. I fear you have no choice but to agree."

"Don't do this", you plead, and even though you try your best to hide it, your body trembles and your eyes fill with tears. The realization that he is telling the truth makes you feel sick to your stomach. Not wanting him to see your obvious discomfort, you turn your head away, lowering it in the process.

The next moment, however, you are unexpectedly pulled forward and suddenly feel two strong, muscular arms around you. Lord Halbrand hugs you as if his life depended on it. You can't even remember the last time someone hugged you. Especially not like this.

The slight scent of sea salt and smoke greets you and you have to admit that his embrace makes you feel safe, comfortable even. With his arms pressing you against his firm body tenderly, he manages to stop your body from shaking and your head from spinning. Right now, it's just you and Lord Halbrand. No could-haves, no would-haves.

The fact that you are no longer averse to his proximity scares you an immeasurable amount. That is also the reason why, in the next second, you push him away with all your strength, your hands on his hard chest.

"Please, Lord Halbrand. I need you to leave", you almost beg him and when his hand clasps yours on his chest, you look up at him and suddenly feel seen. The way he looks at you is unlike anyone has ever looked at you before.

"Your wish is my command, Princess", he nods and lifts your hand to his mouth, where he places a feather-light kiss on the back of your hand before he walks back to the large doors to your chamber, not taking his eyes off you. You also watch him and wait for him to finally leave you.

"Leave out the Lord next time", is the last thing he says before he disappears.

As soon as you see the door slam shut behind him, however, you run over with quick steps. Only when you get there and reach for the door handle do you stop yourself. What has gotten into you? Overwhelmed by the emotions flowing through your body all at once, you lean your forehead against the door in defeat.

After staying there for a while and taking several deep breaths to calm your rapidly pounding heart, you walk over to the brooch that is still shining at you from the table. Carefully, you place the fragile thing in the palm of your hand and examine it when you suddenly hear a whistle.

Wondering where it came from, you step out onto your balcony and see a few ships leaving the bay in the distance. But your attention is quickly drawn to the person standing in the courtyard a few meters below, looking up at you. You don't have to look twice to know that it is Halbrand.

"Give us a chance", he calls up to you and even from this distance you can see the bright smile on his face. Then he turns around and disappears under one of the archways.

Holding the brooch tightly to your heart, you can't believe that a soft smile creeps onto your lips.

════════════

"His Lordship Halbrand has requested to see you, my lady", one of the guards announces as you step out of your chambers the next morning. The mention of his name makes your heart skip a beat and you straighten up immediately.

"Then I shouldn't keep him waiting", you reply gracefully and let the guard accompany you to the place where Halbrand wants to meet you. You wouldn't have expected this to be the inner courtyard, though. And even less that he would be waiting for you there with two saddled horses.

"I hope you had a good night's sleep, my lady", Halbrand greets you with a gentle smile and notices that your steps immediately slow down when you see him with the horses. "Rest assured, Princess. I have consulted with the Queen-Regent regarding this matter. With her approval, I am permitted to accompany you on a brief ride. If that is what you wish, of course."

You pause entirely. You can't believe he convinced your sister to let you leave the castle, and with only Halbrand as your company as well. On the other hand, you've gotten a sense of how charming and persuasive he can be in the last few days.

Smiling, he holds out the reins of a white mare that is standing calmly next to him. Still a little unsure about the whole situation, you take the reins and stroke the horse gently, but don't take your eyes off Halbrand.

"H-How?", you ask him in disbelief. You can't help but think back to how often you have begged your sister to finally let you leave the castle. The fact that she is allowing this now makes you a little suspicious, but you certainly won't question her motives if it means that you can experience freedom once more, even if only for a few hours.

"We have to be back by sunset", Halbrand winks at you and comes closer, making you take a step back instinctively. When he reaches out his hand, you realize that he just wants to help you onto the mare, so you put your hand in his. Once you feel his calloused, rough yet soft hand, a pleasant feeling flows through you and when you sit upon the mare's back, you feel like you could conquer the world. He mounts his black horse as well and together you lead the horses out of the gate.

You turn around, your eyes fixed on the castle and the guards who make no move to follow you. A sense of relief flows through your body at once. Side by side, you make it out of the city and as soon as you leave the border of the capital, you are greeted by vast meadows and fields, grass gently swaying in the wind.

It doesn't take long before you get your horses galloping over the fields. Your white mare is a little faster than his horse, but you hardly even notice. You can only concentrate on the wind blowing through your hair, letting your dress float gently behind you. The air feels liberating and you are amazed at the beauty of nature, the beauty of the island you call home but have seen so little of.

A little later you reach a white sandy beach, the waves calm, seagulls squalling in the distance. The sea suddenly smells completely different from what you are used to and you can't help but smile.

If this is what freedom feels like, you won't ever go back.

Finally, you bring your horse to a stop on the shore, scratching her head, and turn to Halbrand, who stops his stallion right in front of you. Your hair is all tousled by the wind, but Halbrand smiles at you so genuinely that your cheeks flush. Without saying a word, you hop off your mare's back and bend down to bury your hands in the sand. As Halbrand dismounts, you quickly take off your shoes, lift up the fabric of your dress a little, and wade into the shallow water, which laps warmly against your skin.

You can't remember the last time you felt the ocean. As a Númenorean, you are connected to the sea on a deeper level and it feels like, right now, it's showing you how much it's missed you, like you're reuniting with an old friend. The sun is high above you, warming your skin as you close your eyes and enjoy the moment. Then you jump around the water playfully and with so much joy you haven't felt since you were a child.

Until you meet Halbrand's gaze. He is still standing where you left him, the reins of both horses in his hand, watching you enjoy yourself with so much affection in his eyes that you want nothing more than to run to him and fall into his arms, chasing the exhilarating feeling he gave you the day before.

Shyly, you slowly walk back to him through the ankle-deep water, your dress a little wet at the bottom.

"Enjoying yourself?", he asks with a smile, one hand scratching his horse behind the ears as he looks you up and down with sparkling eyes.

"Not exactly princess-like behaviour now, is it?", you shrug, eliciting a chuckle from him that gives you goosebumps and makes your heart beat faster.

"If you want my humble opinion: I think it's exactly how a princess should behave", he replies, the wrinkles around his eyes from smiling making him even more handsome in your eyes. "You shouldn't have to hide from the world."

"I wish I could come here more often", you sigh, ignoring his statement, your mood suddenly burdened by the thought that this moment of freedom will not last long and you will soon find yourself locked up inside the walls of the castle again. Halbrand's expression matches yours, but his gaze lays you bare. Feeling weak, you turn away. You stumble through the sand and finally flop onto the ground on a small dune, neatly placing your shoes next to you. Halbrand leaves the horses in your sight and joins you, sitting just a few meters next to you, your elbows touching.

For a while, neither of you says anything and you just stare out at the waves, which radiate a certain calm.

"As a child, I was very sick. An unidentified illness that was brought over from the continent. Despite having overcome it, I remained in a very weak state, requiring assistance with everything. I was not allowed to go out neither were people allowed to see me for fear of infecting me again. I was always surrounded by guards", you explain, your voice strong, but you have to pull yourself together not to sob. "Míriel was the only one who stood by my side, who made my time a little more bearable. Since our father.. has fallen sick, my sister feels even more responsible for my safety and, just like him, doesn't let me go out. She says it's for my own good and I once believed that, a long time ago. But now I doubt her concern is rooted in anything else than her own fear of losing me."

As soon as the last words leave your lips, you feel free. Free from the burden of not being able to tell anyone. But saying it out loud makes it feel so much more real. Still, pride fills you that you didn't shed a single tear. Halbrand, who was hanging on your every word, looks at you not with pity or sadness, but with a smile.

"Thank you for confiding in me. I can hardly imagine how hard that must have been for you", he tells you, speaking as if all of this is no longer your present. Maybe it's not right now, but it will be once you return.

"I have been wondering why you were locked up inside your whole life", he mutters to himself and takes a handful of sand, letting it trickle through his fingers. "And despite the prospect of freedom, you are against this marriage?"

His words hit you harder than they should, because you have to admit that you haven't given it a thought since yesterday.

"It's about her treating me like I'm a commodity that can be sold for a price", you answer, anger rising inside of you at the thought. "Either she keeps me here and risks a war or she finally lets me leave, with the ulterior motive that I at least bring some added value to Númenor. Besides, no one ever said that I would come with you once we were married."

"You think she would keep you here?", Halbrand asks, astonished. When you nod, something like determination paints his features.

"I won't allow that."

"I fear none of us will have much say in this", you sigh, exhausted and defeated, absentmindedly playing with the sand now as well. "I'm sorry you have to put up with a princess who knows nothing about this world, let alone has seen anything-"

"Don't say that", Halbrand interrupts you firmly, his eyebrows drawn together as if it physically hurts him to hear such words coming from your mouth. "You are perfect in my eyes, Princess."

You are glad he can't see the way your heart has started beating faster. What he can see, however, is the blush rising to your cheeks, which you quickly try to hide by turning your head away, pulling your knees closer to you.

"I feel like no one has ever told you how beautiful you are. In every way", he continues and you are startled when you feel his hand on your chin, gently turning your face back to him. You find it difficult to look at him, his eyes are looking at you so intensely that you no longer know which way is up and which way is down.

"Lord Halb-"

"What did I tell you about the Lord?", he chuckles, shaking his head at your cute behaviour. He loves the colour of pink your cheeks have taken on and how your eyes search his for any sign that he is lying, but you find nothing but the truth in them.

"When I told you that a princess like you doesn't belong here, I meant that a princess like you, who should be a queen, doesn't belong on this island, isolated from the world", Halbrand whispers, his hand moving from your chin to your cheek, where he gently strokes your heated skin with his thumb. "You belong in the very middle of it."

"N-No. I could never be a queen, I was not born for that", you explain, confident in your own words because it's all you have ever heard in your entire life; you would never be queen.

"I will make you a queen", he replies and the conviction with which he says this, the affection that resonates in his words and his features, makes you believe in his words. You desperately want to believe them.

"I promise I will not go without bringing you along", he assures you, holding your face in both of his hands now, his face so close to yours that you only have to lean forward a little to taste his lips. Halbrand notices this too, his gaze wanders to your lips and back to your eyes, which meet his almost pleadingly. As soon as you slightly nod, he connects your lips in a gentle but longing kiss. You gasp, never having been kissed before. Your heart feels like it will jump out of your chest at any moment, the sound of the waves blurs with your heartbeat and your hands get lost in his hair.

The kiss only lasts a few seconds, both of you having to catch your breath, but you don't want to let go of him. You have no idea what this man, this inconspicuous King of the Southlands, is doing to you, but you don't want to think about it because all you know is that you finally feel like yourself again, a feeling that seems so familiar yet unknown.

"I promise I will make you a queen and if it's the last thing I do", Halbrand tells you once more, leaning his forehead against yours before leaving a gentle kiss on the side of your mouth. Smiling up at him, you waste no time to wrap your arms around his neck and connect your lips in another kiss.

You will be his queen. And then you will finally be free.

[tojisun]

sun, i am gripping your cheeks in my palms from how much i love the idea of a happy, healing simon in love.

u r incredible.

oh baby thank you for liking the tiny ramble. it’s just that, hearing falling in love by cas live changes you i think 🥹

just. thinking about how simon must have been so scared when he met you because there is an unending list of reasons to know that the bubbling desires warming up the tender press of his heart will be your undoing. that everything will end in pain and suffering and loss so catastrophic, storms will be named after you, but he—

he wants to try.

and he is greedy and he is not a good man but he—

he wants to love. to fall in love. to be in love. to stay in love.

because there is purpose to be found within the rough drags of your palms, wedged together in the lines that web along your fingers and knuckles. they graze against the scars along his maw and his neck and his side, by his rib, and like this, when you press the forever-etched markings of your body to the ones given to him by this weeping world, simon learns how to love himself enough to heal.

because there is happiness to be found within the trickle of your laughter, loud and booming, but also quiet and huffing; it is shared between whispered confessions and stifled conversations drowned out by the ringing noise of the crowd. they wash over him, submerging him in something so mundane and intimate, and simon soaks it up.

he soaks up this new thing that he had never once dared to find for himself. never once dared to—

to fight for.

and simon feels.

he feels the tendrils of his past loosening around his neck, making it easier for him to breathe. to live. to leave (behind the scars. the nightmares. the terrors).

that is not to say that he found his salvation in you. that the years he’s lived prior to you have been a lonely voyage because they aren’t—simon had found peace, already. he had found love and happiness and safety and family in people before you.

but you?

oh, you are the one his soul sings to. the one that makes his spirit yowl and scratch on the shell of his bones, churning within the chasm of his body, trying to break free as though desperate to unite with yours.

you are his home.

and that, alone, triumphed over his fears.

[casdeans-pie]

There's this really dumb season 5 era fic that I really want to write

I got this really vivid image of Dean going into Bobby's kitchen in the middle of the night because he heard a noise and he can hear the rustling of cutlery in the kitchen drawer and he's got his gun ready and he flips on the light and Cas is just standing there clutching one of those big salad forks to his chest.

And Dean is like ?? Cas????

And Cas is just staring at him like a deer in the headlights. and they just keep staring at each other cause thats what they do

And finally Dean is like Shall I leave you alone with your... fork???

But Cas is super cagey and Dean just gets more suspicious and playful about it. He manages to make it so that Cas says he 'needs a fork' and Dean is like Snort. Oh yeah. I'm sure. A good fork.

Cause yknow. fork sounds like

Anyway he manages to find out that Cas has an itch on his back that he just. can't. reach.

Which is what he needed the fork for.

Turns out that Cas is molting but the other angels are still actively hunting him so he can't go back to heaven to do it properly with real wings so he just has to suffer in his vessel with the phantom itch. Dean feels bad for him and does eventually agree to scratch his back.

Because of the intricate rituals. And that's what friends do. Friends help each other. They help their angel boy best friends during their angel wing molt thing.

So Cas is like Thank you Dean and takes off his coat and his jacket and his tie and his shirt and Dean is having a minor crisis.

He maneuvers Cas to brace his hands against the counter and Dean stands behind. He doesn't know what he's feeling but he's feeling a certain way about all of this. He starts to rake his fingers down Cas's shoulder blades and immediately Cas is like YES. THERE. HARDER. and Dean is like Jesus Cas! You'll wake the house shut up man! while trying not to show how unbelievably turned on he is

Just as the sexual tension between them really heats up Cas flies away.

And then there's a massive flash forward to present day where Dean has retired from hunting and Cas is still an angel and they're happy and alive and living together and so in love and Dean wakes up in the middle of the night because he can hear noises from the kitchen.

He goes down and flips on the light and Cas is there holding a spatula. And he's like Dean why do we not own any salad forks.

And Dean gently takes the spatula from him, kisses him, and is like Let me help you scratch that itch.

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Parallels in Unknown Episode 9

God I love the physicality in this show.

I will preface by saying once more that Kurt is doing a great job in his role as Yuan, especially lately with all the pushing and prodding Yuan has been doing to Qian, but I once again find myself having to highlight the masterful performance of Chris Chiu.

Wei Qian is a very tense and quiet character in a show that uses voice overs sparingly. This means that Chris has a very difficult job in conveying Qian’s inner monologue through body language alone. Without uttering a word we know what Qian is thinking; what he’s feeling; we understand the depth, the weight of his care for the people he loves.

For Episode 9, I want to talk about parallels. Parallels and how effectively Unknown is able to use them to bring maximum emotional devastation:

gif by @ueasking

We open with a flashback to Lili and Yuan as kids, to Lili trying to get out of going to school because she is worried the world is going to end. We open with a line from Qian:

“Even if the world comes down, I’ll hold it up.” 

Y’all. That line hit me like a 16 wheeler, holy fuck. This is the summary of Qian’s life, of his goals, of his struggle. Qian’s never had the luxury to live in a world that wasn’t falling apart. But he’s spared Yuan and Lili (especially Lili) from the trauma and the abuse and the pain he has suffered. He is already holding everyone’s worlds together, and that line struck me as the deepest and most beautiful profession of love. And of course, because he is acting as a parent to these kids he has to follow it with an empty threat.

The kids head off to school, but before the door closes behind Yuan he turns around, he looks Qian right in the eye and he says

“Ge, if the world comes down, we’ll hold it up together.”

gif by @ueasking

Double homicide. A perfect expression of Yuan’s devotion to Qian, Qian who very rarely experiences reciprocity. Qian spent a large portion of his life being uplifted and supported by the people around him: Le-ge, San Pang and his family, Xiong this is true, but for Qian most of those feel like or literally are debts to be repaid. He said it to Le-ge in this episode “I will pay you back everything I owe”, in Episode 1, Qian tells San Pang he’ll pay him back when San Pang covers his bills, Xiong helped kick start Qian’s career, but he’s in business with Xiong now so Qian’s success is Xiong’s success. Yuan is the only person to whom Qian owes nothing, and Yuan is the only person who is trying to care for him back without being owed.

Because this show has been looping in my head, I’ve been thinking a lot about trauma. The first scene we see of Qian and Yuan together, Yuan holds out a metal pipe in defense and Qian has an immediate flashback to his own childhood and the abuse he had suffered. Qian immediately establishes a connection to Yuan that he never will with Lili because Qian was incredibly successful in shielding Lili from the harshness of the world. We don’t see the trauma Yuan must have experienced as a kid, but we get the snippets, the ties in to Qian’s experiences, the illness, the hunger. Yuan has suffered, and Qian has saved him, and Yuan understands the burden that comes with care. Yuan is devoted to Qian, Yuan does not want Qian to hold everything he’s carrying all by himself.

Yuan has always been like this, and will always be like this for Qian.

Despite the overarching structural problems I had with this episode, I do think there was a strong thematic thread in paralleling space and physical touch all the way through.

The Letter

Qian discovers this letter in a box under Yuan’s bed. 

“In my life, I’ve been driven by a deviant and sharp obsession” 

Qian tenses up, taking in a deep breath, his eyes wandering away from the page. He literally has to mentally prepare himself to continue reading Yuan’s words 

“Looking back, there’s nothing else. But if my life were to cease all of a sudden-” Qian barely moves his head to finish reading, instead just casts his eyes downward.

“-not seeing you one last time would be my greatest regret” 

Qian moves the paper downward, and he looks away. Legitimately, Qian looks at that letter for as short a time as he physically possibly can. 

I’m mentioning the letter because the face that Qian makes when he is reading it is a recurring character throughout this entire episode. Because we see that face again almost immediately when Qian is at H.O.T.. That man is fully dissociating in his meeting, his mind is not at work at all. He is a statue sitting there with exactly the same face he was making when he read the first few words of Yuan’s letter. And it is not until everyone else but San Pang has walked away that he breaks from that thought paralysis and turns to get San Pang’s opinion. Dissatisfied with San Pang’s response and knowing that Yuan was hiding something from him and has not responded to his phone calls, Qian seeks additional answers. 

Rescuing Yuan

In Episode 1, Qian figures out Yuan is in trouble because he gets a phone call from Yuan’s teacher saying that Yuan applied for a leave of absence, he freaks out and goes straight to the pool hall where he barges in yelling and fighting his way to Le’s door. The second he gets in the room, he barrels straight towards Hu and grabs him by the collar. Qian has to be held back by multiple people in order to stop him from laying waste to everyone there, and the second Le-ge tells his people to let Qian go, Qian starts running straight to Le to fight him and has to be held back once more. 

While Qian is being detained, he is looking around wildly, face a perfect picture of rage and desperation. When Yuan is brought out and Qian is released, he runs straight to Yuan and pulls him in to a hug and they start to walk away, arms linked to each other’s backs in support and connection. 

And it sticks as such a vivid memory in my head that I had a visceral reaction to seeing how Qian has changed over time. Because in Episode 9 he knows something is wrong, you can see the worry behind his eyes when he tells San Pang that Yuan hasn’t answered his phone. And San Pang leaves him sitting there, still mulling over everything. When Qian enters the restaurant to talk to Le he appears calm (though there is very clearly a storm brewing inside him), he enters slowly. He is tense, and frustrated, and trying to contain it all. He is trying to keep himself calm. This is a very political conversation. He pours beer for Le-ge, he drinks with him, but you can feel it in the way that Qian sits that his every thought is like a clock just ticking away until something bad happens to Yuan. 

“Le-ge can I ask a favor of you?” 

“What favor?”

“Help me find Yuan,”

“Are you asking me to help you find him or hand him back?” Le asks bemused and we get a jaw twitch from Wei Qian. Qian is seething, but he knows how Le operates and he’s older and wiser now so he can’t just enter the scene beelining towards Le with his fist ready for a face. As a child he was willing to fight Le, as an adult he has recognized Le more as an unfortunate ally who has all the power. Le and Qian roll up to the scene and we get a far more familiar Qian the second he exits the car and starts sprinting towards Yuan and immediately decks Hu right in the face to get him away from Yuan.

Again he tries to fight everyone that comes between them, again he is detained, being held back by multiple people, again Le and Hu fight while Qian is waiting to be released so he can run to Yuan. Again Le puts an ultimatum on their freedom, before it was a boxing match, now it is Russian Roulette.

When they are set free, Qian immediately runs to Yuan and grabs him like he did when they were running away. The way he looks at everyone when he has Yuan in his arms is exactly the same way he looked at everyone when he was reunited with Yuan the first time Yuan was taken from him by the gang. 

It’s all the same, the way they walk out together, the way they are made to pause, the way Qian’s face is snarling when he’s trapped. It’s all there.   

Russian Roulette

Now, we are all about reciprocity here so we get another really tragic parallel between the boxing scene in Episode 1 and the Russian Roulette scene in Episode 9. 

In Episode 1, it is Qian that is made to play Le’s game alone: win three boxing matches, he and Yuan get to leave the gang. But Le doesn’t let Yuan off scot-free here either, forcing him to stand there and watch Qian get beat to shit over and over and over again for Yuan’s sake. And we get Yuan being the one to call out to Qian. 

“Ge, stop fighting, let’s go home!” Yuan yells, and when Qian wins we see Yuan wiping tears away, and then screaming after Qian when his opponent sneaks up behind him. When Qian and Yuan are alone together after the fight, Yuan is crying and when Qian tells him not to cry he says: 

“Sorry. You wouldn’t have been in this fight if it hadn’t been for me,” which in this case is true for reasons outside of Yuan’s control. The things Qian has done for Le are informed by the care he has for Lili and Yuan, but Yuan is not himself the cause of the problem. 

In Episode 9 however….he walks right into the gang as if that is going to do anything, and has to be rescued by Qian. This time, though Yuan does not (or at least has yet to) say it, Qian would not have been in this fight with Hu and the rest of the gangsters if it wasn’t for Yuan. 

Similarly to Episode 1, Le-ge gives an ultimatum to their release, Russian Roulette. Where before we had three boxing matches, now we have three bullet chambers. And Yuan is old enough to protect Qian now, so Yuan volunteers to go first, and we get a role reversal. Before, Yuan had to watch, crying, as Qian fought and bled. Now, Qian is the one sobbing, having to watch Yuan get a gun to the head. Yuan looks at him and mouths “wo ai ni” and Qian immediately closes his eyes because cannot look at Yuan when the trigger is pulled, just as Yuan tried to look away when Qian was getting his skull bashed in in the boxing ring. 

Yuan gets tortured right back though when it is Qian’s turn to have the trigger pulled, all we hear over the background music is this desperate and broken pleading scream from Yuan to let Qian go. When the game is over and Qian is released he runs straight to Yuan and pulls him up stating “Let’s go home, we’re going home,” another direct parallel to Episode 1. 

THE HUG

Alright, my favorite devastating blow of the evening, the hug in Episode 9 and how it parallels the hug in Episode 1. Because there are two levels to this: 

photo of the photobook that @thisonelikesaliens was kind enough to send me. gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

The hug that Episode 9 more explicitly parallels, in my mind, is the hug that Qian gives Yuan right when they are reunited. He has that boy tucked in his arms, and is holding the back of Yuan’s head with his hand. It’s a very quick moment, but the intensity of Qian’s motion, the strength of his hug, the emotional core of that hug is evident in just the briefest of seconds and matches the intensity, the strength, and the emotional core of the hug in Episode 9. 

gif by @ueasking

Then you get a secondary parallel with the hug between Qian and Yuan after the boxing match, though it’s not as much of a 1:1 visual as the brief hug above. This is mostly in the changing heights, Yuan and Qian are on relatively the same level here. And you get the hand to the back of the head as a comforting thing which Qian is also doing to Yuan in today’s hug. 

In Episode 9, they are walking back home, it is dark, it is quiet. Qian stops dead in his tracks, the same look on his face as when he read the letter. He turns to face Yuan and clenches his fist because he needs that extra strength, it is taking everything in him to follow through on what comes next and then he just grabs Yuan and pulls him into a hug that parallels the hug they shared when Yuan was younger. Qian hugs Yuan like he is that small, scared boy even though Qian is now so much shorter than Yuan and Yuan is so much braver than he used to be.

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

But unlike the hugs in Episode 1, I don’t think this one is intended to comfort Yuan. I think this time, it is Qian reaching out to Yuan for his own comfort. Because in Episode 1 it is Yuan who cries in to the forehead touch, in Episode 9 it is Qian who burrows his face into Yuan’s neck as hard as he can while his face contorts in sobs. This is not necessarily a parallel, but it is the moment of the episode that ruined my life so I needed to make sure that I took you all down with me with a reminder of this scene and a gif. Oh also, they hug in front of a giant pile of wood like they do with the forehead touch in Episode 1 because they HATE US. 

Fishing Conversation v. Letter Conversation

The two big conversations that Qian and Yuan have this episode are really interesting to me because of how they play with space. When Yuan and Qian are out fishing together, Yuan places himself directly in front of, directly next to Qian for the whole length of the conversation where he asks Qian his feelings. Here they are with allllll this space around them, the water, the earth, the air they can sit wherever, they can stand wherever, they can exist wherever they want and they sit half a breadth apart. 

“Four years ago you turned and left, four years later we’re back here. This is enough.” Yuan states

“Can you stop staring at me then?” Qian asks.

gifs by @ueasking

And that in itself is a parallel to Episode 6 and Yuan begging, pleading, clutching at Qian’s knee for him to look at him. Qian could not look Yuan in the eye from the second Yuan told him he was suffering until the moment he returned home, and now Yuan refuses to break eye contact. (And as an aside, it is a very good indication that Qian is warming up to Yuan’s feelings because he says this in a very light, almost joking way. And he follows it with an empty threat, like the empty threat he gave to Lili when she said she didn’t want to go to school, one that Yuan calls him on immediately.) Yuan moves back to his seat, but even then he does not keep any physical distance from Qian, immediately reaching over to grab Qian’s rod ;-)

At the end of the episode, we get a very differently blocked conversation. It starts with the camera focused on Qian as he ices the back of his head, a place we know has caused him continual problems since the boxing match. Yuan knocks before he enters (which he did for the first time last episode), gives Qian a glass of milk (which they’ve definitely done in this show before), and in response Qian (rightfully imo) yells at Wei Zhiyuan for being dumb, then confronts him with the letter. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Qian asks, and it’s the first time he looks at Yuan in the exchange and Yuan takes it, turns around, and walks away without a word. Yuan puts the letter away and goes to sit on a chair in his room, looking across the hallway at Qian. And this is one of my favorite parallels in the episode, because of what it is doing with distance. 

gif by @ueasking

Earlier in the episode Yuan and Qian were fishing together and engaging in very intense conversation about their feelings and their relationship to one another (or rather, Qian was undergoing an interrogation about his feelings and hearing once more Yuan’s feelings for him). With all that wide open space at the river they were essentially joined at the hip the entire time. But here, when there is another very intense conversation about to happen- one where Yuan is breaking some news to Qian that is almost guaranteed to make him feel all the more guilty for sending Yuan away and going no-contact -there is as much space between them as possible.

So despite the fact that they are in their house, in a much smaller space than the river, despite the fact that they started the conversation in Wei Qian’s room, one of the few places Qian has been vulnerable in front of his family (especially when intoxicated, triggered, or experiencing symptoms of his chronic health condition), one of the few places that Qian has allowed Yuan to be completely carefree, cuddly, and affectionate with him (even sharing a bed), this space Qian has fought tooth and nail to make safe for his family, Yuan does not tarnish it by being in the room with him for the conversation. 

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

No, instead Qian will get this information with as much physical and emotional distance between them as Yuan can muster. 

“...some people started writing their last words” causes Qian to break eye contact with Yuan, but his posture, his breathing, all the rest of his physicality remains the same. Until…

“Everything I own is yours, whether you want it or not,”

That is what breaks Qian. Throughout the conversation as he is hearing about Yuan getting trapped, as he is hearing about Yuan thinking he was going to die, he is stoic, he is stone faced, the most movement you see from him is his eyes looking Yuan up and down in concern and his breath getting slightly quicker with each word, the turn of his head. But here he closes his eyes, he looks down at the ground, he releases his breath. It hits him so hard, the knowledge that he could have sent Yuan away and never seen him again, he sent Yuan away and Yuan could have died, where Qian was not around to protect him. 

It is just such a good mirror to the fishing scene, I love it so much.��

[marlborosam]

Man. What Exactly do you think was going on in Cas's head in 9x11 First Born when he told Sam "You know, being human... it didn't just change my view of food. It changed my view of you." Considering the fact that Cas had already Directly Blatantly Plainly said to Ana in SEASON FIVE that he would fucking Kill her/one of his own if they even came near Sam Winchester, let alone try to kill him. You come near Sam Winchester and I'll kill you. And that scene ALSO happens after: Cas comes to the conclusion that it didn't matter that they'd successfully stopped the Apocalypse, because it came "at a terrible cost"– because he'd lost Sam. Because in an act of love, and loyalty, and newly discovered free will, he'd braved Lucifer's Cage in order to try and save Sam. After Sam reached out to him as the only being who could possibly understand and most importantly forgive Cas for the wrongs he'd committed in the name of trying to do Right by the world, to do Right by those he cared about. Even if it'd meant going against what those loved ones actually thought was right. After he takes on the Cage trauma he'd personally re-inflicted on Sam, and tries to begin righting his wrongs by apologizing and trying to ease the pain and suffering he'd inflicted on Sam in particular– I was lost, until I took on your pain.

All of this history, and he says Being human, it didn't just change my view of food. It changed my view of you. I can relate now, to how you feel. I know what it feels like to be sorry. Sam, I am sorry.

What about that view was changed. What about his feelings for Sam were changed simply by virtue of the fact that he'd spent time as a human. I DESPERATELY need to know what the fuck that was actually supposed to mean. What does it Mean what does it all MEAN

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Could I please get Jeff and Liu (throw sully in there as a third if you want, or just merge all three. However you want to write it.) With a younger sibling who’s chronically sick (sort of like how Jeff was as a kid. Bad asthma, physically weak, etc etc.)

I hope you enjoy, I tried to mix in all three of them

It's hard on all three of them emotionally sometimes, watching you be chronically sick. It's hard on Jeff because when he looks at you he's reminded of himself, and he's scared of seeing you have to suffer through the same things he routinely suffered through, and sometimes still has to deal with when he has flare ups. It's hard on Liu for a similar reason, because he watched Jeff suffer through his sickness as your parents would do nothing to help him, and so Liu would be the only one trying to do anything to help him, and it's hard on Sully because just as Sully does everything he can to try to protect Liu, Sully wants to do everything he can to try and help you and protect you, and when he sees you suffering through your sickness, it makes him feel like he's failing because he can't just make it better.

However, they're not your parents. They aren't going to watch you suffer alone just as they did to Jeff. The three of them do their absolute best to take care of you, working together to make sure that if you ever need help, at least one of them is there with you to help out. Even Jeff and Sully, who are normally butting heads and disagreeing, work together seamlessly if they ever both need to for your sake. I think Jeff and Liu would definitely make sure they can both go with you to any appointments you have, as they want to be aware of what's going on with your health and ask any questions they have and see how they can provide any help to you. I think Liu is probably the bigger hardass out of the three of them, being the one to make sure you're always keeping track of any medication you have/need, making sure you're not pushing yourself too hard, and getting plenty of rest.

I think Jeff is the one who's usually asking if you want to go out any time you have free time and are feeling well enough, as he couldn't do much when he was younger, so he makes sure you can do things despite any weakness and difficulties you have. Liu is hesitant about those things at first because he doesn't want you getting hurt or too stressed out, but I think he comes around eventually and joins in on these little outings, especially if you ask him to because as the doting oldest sibling he simply cannot say no to you. They'll take you to a park to just sit outside and get some fresh air, or maybe go for a walk if you're feeling well enough, or to eat out somewhere and then get some ice cream, or to go to the movies. Small things that won't put too much stress and pressure on your weak body that still allow you to get out and get some fresh air. Sully likes spending time with you at home, mostly because he would be devastated if he took you out and something happened to you.

He watches shows with you or plays games, and he does a lot of cooking for you and handles a lot of your chores to help out. Anything you'd like to do, he does his best to do it with you, and he even goes out of his way to learn all about your hobbies so you two can talk about them together (as do Jeff and Liu, but Sully commits himself to go above and beyond) because it brings him so much joy to see you getting excited about the things you love, and it fills you with so much life and mirth, and it relieves a lot of his inner turmoil about whether or not you're truly doing well. They probably rotate which of the three of them helps around the house and checks in on you, because they love you very much and while they know you're strong and can take care of yourself for the most part, they will always be there to provide any support and protection you might need. No matter how old you get you'll always be their baby sibling, and they just want to see you happy and well cared for.

[follows-the-bees]

When Castiel learns that it's Claire's birthday he decides to buy her something.

Angels didn't celebrate birthdays; they live for too long, and don't have the same sentimentality that humans do. But humans are built differently, their lifespans are short and there is a tendency to throw parties for the smallest of things.

Castiel didn't understand why at first, but having lived among them and not just observing from afar, he experienced firsthand the pain and suffering, but also the small moments of downtime in between. Celebrating birthdays gave humans a chance to recalibrate, enjoy their lives, the good.

Castiel once told Dean he only saw pain, but Dean talked about the world through his experiences, about how he would take all the pain, guilt, and suffering. That people, families are real. And then Castiel understood.

He has no idea what Claire would like. He was forced to posses her for only a short time when she was a kid, but time has passed and she has grown. A few years back, when Dean was mad at him, he knew mostly what to buy him, because he knew Dean, knew every inch of his body when he rebuilt him, knew his whole soul when he grabbed it tight and raised him from perdition. But his memories of Claire are more fleeting. Children's minds are slightly different than adults: both of them are just a series of emotions and moments but kids have more room for random thoughts while adults are jumbled and weighed down by all the years. Sometimes regret, anger, anxiety ruled the mind of adults, while kids had a happier disposition.

After mulling it over and not coming to any real conclusions he asks Dean where he should go to get Claire something.

"I don't know, man, she's an angsty teenager, let's go to Hot Topic."

"Will you drive me there?"

"Yeah."

They drive over and Cas stops in front of the store, taking in the faux darkness radiating out of the space. The neon colors offer a distinct otherworldlyness that perturbs him. It fits perfectly with Claire.

Dean puts a hand on his shoulder, gives a quick smile and says, "ya all right?"

Cas looks slightly up at him a crooked smile creeps on his face. "This place is perfect."

They walk in together and start browsing the shelves, Dean doesn't even notice his hand is still on Cas' shoulder, it creeps down his arm and comes to rest on his lower back.

Cas gravitates to a stuffed cat. One of Claire's memories is of a similar stuffed animal that she slept with every night. And in the morning she would tell it her dreams, kiss its nose, and tuck it back into bed to sleep longer.

He turns toward Dean. "Claire is a lot like you, both of you hide yourselves with anger. Do you think she'll like this when she's alone and allows herself to feel her emotions?" he asks, holding up the stuffed animal.

Dean takes his hand off Cas's back and moves it to cover his mouth and his blush. A nervous gesture Cas has observed. His voice is thick. "Yeah, Cas, I think she'll love it." Cas beams.

As they leave the store, Cas puts his hand on Dean's shoulder, a comforting gesture since Dean still looks sheepish. "Thank you, Dean. This is perfect."

[velocesainz]

Why are you here?

F1 masterlist | Main masterlist |

Summary: You are an engineer at McLaren and work with oscar, however, the relationship between the two of you is complicated

Warnings: Angstyyyy, mentions of su!cide, happy ending

Pairing: Oscar x engineer!fem!reader

Your POV:

I walked into the McLaren garage and threw on my overalls. This was going to be a long day of repairs.

Why?

Because of Oscar Piastri of course.

He decided to ram the MCL60 into the barrier during fp1 causing the car to sustain some serious damage which had to be fixed before quali the next day.

As I was working alone, I heard someone walk into the garage.

"Finally somebody decided to help me fix this assholes ca-" I instantly shut my mouth when I saw Oscar.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

He's never in the garage unless he's getting ready to get into the car.

"I came in here thinking someone useful was working on my car and to check with them if the damage was bad. But I guess no one is here" he replied curtly with a smirk on his face.

Ugh I hate him so much I tell you.

I couldn't hold the rage in.

"You know what just get out. I spend all my days slaving away to fix your stupid car that you keep crashing and I don't even get a thank you in return. I have to do this all alone because the other mechanics refuse to take orders from a "girl". So sincerely, if you have nothing good to say get the fuck out." I snapped.

Oscar looked at me for a second and then replied "Thank god I'm not in the garage as an engineer or something or else I would have to hear your annoying voice yap all day long and look at your ugly face while you complain" and walked away, thank god.

Thank god this was my last season with McLaren. I haven't yet signed the renewal contact but I doubt I want to stay in formula 1 after this experience.

Heck I didn't even want to live on this planet after what he just said.

Was I really that annoying and ugly?

Oscar POV:

I walked out of the garage and as I walked to my driver's room I tried taking in all the y/n said.

All she did was her job and me being a coward who can't express his feelings just ends up insulting or arguing with her.

I felt horrible. What I said was vile, disgusting and mean. I was going to apologise the next day for sure.

The next day:

I walked around the garage talking to my race engineer and getting ready for the race.

I didn't see y/n anywhere which is odd, she's always there for all races no matter what happens.

I ignored it and went on with the race.

2 hours later:

I can't believe it! I got P2!!

I better thank y/n, she fixed my car all by herself after all.

After the podium celebrations came time for the team party. I dressed up in a nice tailored suit and fixed my hair. I was going to confess to y/n today.

I made my way to the party and searched everywhere for y/n but she was still nowhere to be found.

I suddenly received a text from her

Thank you Oscar for all you've done to help me become a better person. I appreciated the insults to some point but yesterday really got to me. I know you hate me but I'd like you to know that I love you. It's alright though, you won't have to see this ugly face in the paddock or anywhere else really. I hope you live a great life, I sure didn't.

What did I just read? Was that...no. It can't be...

Was that a su!cide note?

I have to get to her immediately.

I got in my car and tracked her location on my phone, driving to her as fast as possible. I hope I can save her, she's my everything.

Your POV:

Everything was ready. The notes were sent. The bathtub was full.

It was perfect. I can finally end my misery and suffering.

I got into the tub, fully clothed, and completely submerged myself in it. I tuned out all the noise around me waiting for death to come take me.

That's when I was suddenly pulled out of the water.

Why wouldn't this person let me die? Why is this person here?

I opened my eyes. It was Oscar.

"Why are you here?" I asked

"Because I love you y/n. I can't live without you. I was stupid for not confessing earlier but please don't leave me" he was silently crying giving his confession.

"I love you too Oscar" I replied

"God I love you more. Don't ever leave me please" he said as he kissed me.

He helped me get out of my wet clothes and he held me close for the rest of the night.

I finally had someone who cared for me and all my worries disappeared.

[foolondahill17]

Gonna quickly rant about what I find to be the core of my dislike for Sam's characterization compared to Dean's.

I find Sam soooo fucking annoying in seasons 1-5. He's selfish, self-righteous, and bratty in a way that gets on my nerves. But I actually don't mind him as a *character* because I think that's a really interesting way to build your protagonist only to break him down and have him come out the other side with some kind of growth. A plummeting to the ground Icarus kinda deal.

We get a tiny glimpse of this potential at the end of season 4 when Sam realizes he's been played by Ruby this whole time and is actually an intrinsic piece to starting the Apocalypse. We hope for a fulfilling end for his character when he sacrifices himself at the end of season 5.

But then....he just goes back to the way he was in season 6 and 7 and onward. He never has substantial growth. He's always that whiny little baby from season 1. Instead of the huge character development spending a century in hell could have been, he just uses his suffering to be more self-righteous. He's so frustrating!

Compared to Dean's character growth, Sam is almost entirely one dimensional. At its bare bones, Dean begins the series deeply self-conscious and self-loathing but manages to hide it under a fairly strong conviction that he's fighting the good fight.

This core value is systematically hammered to pieces during seasons 1-3 until it's ultimately pulverized by Dean's time in hell. He returns from the pit with any sense of self utterly twisted and tarnished.

He now believes himself wholeheartedly to be unworthy of saving, let alone love. Even the fight for "good" he so earnestly believed in pre-hell seems exhausting and pointless.

This ultimately spirals into more and more desperate measures to save his family until suddenly he's pointing a gun at his child in a graveyard then pointing a gun at his brother-child in his home.

But it doesn't end there. Because still, at the end, he's able to be moved by Cas's love and say "that's not who I am" and literally throw his gun at God's feet.

[filmofhybe]

taking care of you from afar

🫶 pairing : Nishimura Riki x oc 💌 GENRE : Angst 907 wc

Warning : break up , cold Christmas

; AUTHORS NOTE : mixed up mixed up up up

Masterlist to my other works

"Y/n, I can't just stop caring for you," he insisted, his eyes reflecting the conflict within.

I sighed, realizing the complexity of our emotions. "Niki, it's going to be harder for both of us if we keep holding on. We need to move forward separately." We know we both don’t want this. But if only you knew why..

Two months before Christmas, Niki and I decided to part ways. We knew it was for the best, but the pain lingered in our hearts. I told him he should let me go, that holding on would only hurt him more with each passing day. Yet, Niki, stubborn and caring as ever, couldn't bring himself to release his grip on our relationship. It has very much affected my way on moving on from him because of his kind and caring gesture till this day. But nothing would ever change him or even stop him caring for me.

Christmas approached, and the bitter chill in the air mirrored the frostiness between us. I knew he couldn't stand seeing me suffer during the cold holiday season, especially knowing how much my seasonal depression intensified without him.

One day, as I sat alone in my room, I received an unexpected package. Inside were heat pads to keep me warm, some havd cream and lipbalm. With accompanied by a note that simply read, "Stay cozy and warm." Confused, I wondered who could have sent such a thoughtful gift.

Days passed, and the surprises continued. Warm, comforting meals arrived at my doorstep, sometimes even health care products and medicines, bringing a strange mix of gratitude and confusion - Niki, despite our breakup, was orchestrating these gestures from afar. He understood my struggles, even when I tried to convince him otherwise.

“I’m not struggling from my little seasonal depression..”

“Y/n i know you long enough to know you are.”

“Just stop sending stuff over.”

“Just because we broke up doesn’t mean I’m going to stop.”

Then came the day when I opened the door to find a box labeled "Snakes." My heart raced with anxiety until I noticed it was a typo – the intended word was "snacks." I chuckled at the mix-up, realizing Niki's efforts were not without their share of mishaps. Remember how he somehow can’t seem to spill snacks correctly makes my heart swell.

It became a routine. Each day of December, a new surprise arrived, is like a little advent calendar, ranging from handwritten notes to carefully chosen gifts that catered to my needs. I was touched by his unspoken care, yet torn by the knowledge that we had chosen separate paths. Was it really worth it?

One evening, unable to contain my curiosity any longer, I sent him a text. "Why are you doing this, Niki? We're not together anymore." His response was simple, yet it carried the weight of sincerity. "I care about you, Y/n. I can't stop that, even if we're not together anymore. I’ll never break the promise I made with your mother.”

I pondered his words, conflicted between appreciating his gestures and urging him to let go. I replied, "You need to move on, Niki. We both do.", “fine. I’ll stop soon.” His messages became more sporadic, but the surprises persisted. I found solace in his warmth, even if it was delivered from a distance. It was as if he aimed to heal the wounds he couldn't see.

As Christmas neared, I felt a mixture of gratitude and guilt. Gratitude for the kindness he continued to show, as he continues to deliver gifts to my front door despite telling him not to, and guilt for allowing him to hold on to a love that no longer had a place in our lives. I knew I had to confront him, for both our sakes.

One evening, I called him, the familiar sound of his voice stirring a whirlwind of emotions. "Niki, we can't keep going on like this. It's not healthy for either of us." He sighed on the other end of the line. "I know, Y/n. But I can't help it. I still believe in us, and I can't bear to see you suffer. Especially during this time. I know and we both know your struggling and I can’t stand that.. To me your still my precious Angel that i care for everyday..”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I whispered, "You have to let me go, Niki. It's the only way we can truly heal." He fell silent for a moment, then reluctantly agreed. "I'll try, Y/n. But promise me you'll take care of yourself."

As Christmas Eve arrived, I braced myself for the solitude that awaited. To my surprise, a final package arrived, adorned with a ribbon and a note that read, "Merry Christmas, Y/n. Take care of yourself, that’s all I ask for.”

Inside was a beautifully pink crafted blanket, a symbol of warmth and comfort. Despite the pain, I couldn't help but appreciate the bittersweet beauty of his gesture. As I wrapped myself in the blanket, I whispered a silent thank you to the universe for the love that had once been, and the strength to move forward into a new year, alone but not entirely lonely.

“thank you for the gift. Take care.”

“Your welcome, and I’ll always take care of you from afar.”

© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.

[zapreportsblog]

I love the last post. I can see Felix and the Reader doing martial arts together. I can see Caius's face being hesitant to give the reader head scratches.



Jasper/ the Major x wolf reader

Jasper ends up leaving the Cullens for good and going back to live with Peter and Charlotte because he decides he is done with the animal diet, and He finds out Alice lied about them being mates. On the way to Peter and Charlotte's home, He finds the reader in her wolf form not knowing she is female, being chased by other wolves. She accidentally runs into him, and she hides behind him visually scared as the others catch up to her. The Major comes out when he realizes the reader has blood on her fur and open wounds.

(I feel like Jasper/ the Major wouldn't leave the reader to suffer from danger.)

He tells the wolves after they have shift back into human form to leave the wolf alone, that's when the alpha of the pack mentions very rudely that the reader is female and how she does not belong in his pack. They leave and by then the reader has shifted back into a human and looks at Jasper and imprints on him but before she says anything she has passed out from her wounds. Jasper takes her back to Peter and Charlotte, where he nurses her back to health after Peter calls him and says she is important to Jasper. After a few weeks, Jasper, Peter and Charlotte, Reader have received a message that Maria is coming to try take The Major back.

Okay! We got this!

❝true mates❞

✭ pairing : jasper hale x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : jasper is done with the animal diet, he can’t survive no longer without the sweet taste of human blood so he leaves, he leaves behind his family and moves in with two of Carlisle old friends Peter and charlotte. They welcome him and he’s happy now, but before he can arrive there he has a run in with some wolves, no they aren’t attacking him but another.

✭ authors note : this was fun to write ooh and I’m in a Uber on the way home. Nvm I made it home before I could write the last half

✭ twilight masterlist

Jasper Hale's world had always revolved around Alice. Their connection was unbreakable, their bond stronger than steel. But as the days passed, an unease began to settle within him, like a cloud obscuring the sun. It was a gnawing feeling that refused to be ignored.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the first stars appeared in the sky, Jasper found himself alone with Alice in their favorite clearing. The air was crisp, and the only sound was the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

"Alice," Jasper's voice trembled as he began, "I've been feeling something... off, lately. Like there's something you're not telling me."

Alice's golden eyes flickered with uncertainty, her usually bright demeanor dimming. "Jasper, you know I'd never keep anything from you."

"But what if you did?" he pushed gently. "What if there's something you've been hiding? Something about us?"

Alice's gaze dropped to the ground, and Jasper's heart clenched. "Jasper, I thought I was doing what was best for us. I thought if you believed we were destined mates, it would make the transition easier for you. I didn't want to burden you with doubts."

Jasper's brows furrowed, his confusion turning to hurt. "You lied to me? About being mates?"

Alice's voice quivered as she nodded. "I thought it was for the best. I didn't want you to struggle with your cravings more than you already do."

The weight of her admission hung heavy in the air. Jasper's mind raced, conflicting emotions churning within him. The bond they had shared, the trust he had placed in her, felt like shattered glass beneath his feet.

"I can't do this, Alice," Jasper whispered, his voice cracking. "I can't be with someone who would lie to me about something so fundamental. And it's not just that. My cravings are getting worse, and I can't ignore them any longer."

Alice reached out a trembling hand, but Jasper stepped back, out of her reach. "I need human blood, Alice. I can't suppress it any longer."

Tears of vemon welled up in Alice's eyes as she nodded, understanding the weight of his words. "Jasper, I'm so sorry."

Jasper's resolve hardened. He turned away from her, his gaze fixed on the darkening forest. "I can't stay here any longer. Not after this. I need to find a way to control my cravings."

As he walked away from the clearing, leaving behind the shattered fragments of his relationship with Alice, he felt a mixture of sorrow and determination. He needed to find a new path, one that didn't involve the lies and half-truths that had clouded his existence.

Several days later, in the quiet of the Cullen home, Carlisle approached Jasper with a solemn expression. "Jasper, I've made a difficult decision. I reached out to two old friends, Peter and Charlotte. They are vampires who drink human blood, and they've agreed to take you in."

Jasper looked up, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. "You've done so much for me already, Carlisle."

Carlisle placed a reassuring hand on Jasper's shoulder. "We care about you, Jasper. We want you to find the path that's right for you. You deserve to live without the burden of lies and cravings."

Jasper nodded, his voice sincere. "Thank you, Carlisle. For everything."

As Jasper traveled through the dense woods, each step brought him closer to the unknown. The memory of leaving the Cullens was still fresh, a mix of sorrow and determination propelling him forward. The moon hung high in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the forest.

Suddenly, a series of frantic growls and rustling leaves shattered the silence. Jasper's instincts kicked in, and he swiftly darted behind a large tree, taking cover. A pack of massive wolves emerged from the shadows, their eyes glinting with a mix of fury and urgency.

In their midst was an injured wolf, blood oozing from a wound on its side. The injured wolf's paws faltered, and it stumbled, falling to the ground with a pained whimper. The other wolves closed in, their intentions clear.

Jasper's eyes narrowed as he felt a surge of protective energy flow through him. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, his presence commanding attention. The air seemed to crackle with tension as his form shifted, his alter ego, the Major, taking over.

With a roar that echoed through the night, the Major radiated power and authority. The other wolves hesitated, their aggression giving way to uncertainty. The Major's cold, steely gaze bore into them, a warning that needed no words.

The pack of wolves backed away, their tails tucked between their legs. As they retreated, the injured wolf managed to stand, its eyes locking onto Jasper's, a mixture of gratitude and fear in its gaze. Jasper's gaze softened, recognizing the vulnerability beneath the fierce exterior.

Then, something unexpected happened. The injured wolf's form began to shift, contorting and reshaping until it was no longer a wolf, but a human. She stumbled slightly, her body weakened by the transformation, and Jasper moved quickly to support her.

Her breathing was labored, and blood stained her torn clothes. "Thank you," she managed to whisper, her voice fragile and hoarse, before collapsing against him, unconscious.

Jasper's surprise was twofold. First, he was taken aback by the fact that the injured wolf had been a girl all along. And second, as he looked into her eyes, which had transitioned from the fierce amber of a wolf to the warm brown of a human, he felt a pull—a connection unlike any other.

His heart raced, and for a moment, he was at a loss for words. The sensation of a mate pull was undeniable, a magnetic force drawing him to her. But his recent experiences with Alice had left him cautious, wary of giving his heart too easily.

Gently cradling the injured girl in his arms, Jasper's thoughts swirled. He couldn't deny the bond that seemed to be forming, the inexplicable connection that defied reason. As he carried her deeper into the woods, seeking a safe place to tend to her wounds, he couldn't shake the feeling that his journey had taken an unexpected turn—one that held the potential for a new chapter in his immortal life.

Jasper continued his journey through the night, his arms cradling the injured girl against his chest. His steps were steady, his heart a mix of uncertainty and determination. He knew he was headed in the right direction—toward Peter and Charlotte, his two old vampire friends who had agreed to take him in.

As he approached their secluded dwelling, nestled deep within the wilderness, a sense of familiarity washed over him. The moonlight illuminated the path ahead, guiding him toward the place where he hoped to find answers and a safe haven.

The door to the cabin swung open just as Jasper arrived, revealing Peter and Charlotte. Their expressions were a mix of surprise and concern as they took in the scene before them—the injured girl in Jasper's arms.

"Jasper, what happened?" Charlotte's voice carried genuine worry as she rushed forward to help.

Jasper carefully laid the girl on a nearby couch, her unconscious form a stark contrast to the cozy interior of the cabin. "She was being chased by a pack of shapeshifters. I scared them off."

Peter approached Jasper, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Good job, Major."

With Charlotte's expertise, they set to work treating the girl's wounds. The room was filled with the soft glow of candles, and Jasper watched as they worked together seamlessly, their experience evident in every movement.

Time passed in a blur as they tended to the girl's injuries. Slowly, her breathing steadied, and color returned to her cheeks. Jasper found himself captivated by her delicate features, her vulnerability drawing him in.

As the girl began to stir, her eyelids fluttering open, she looked around in confusion before her gaze settled on Jasper. "You saved me."

Jasper offered her a small, reassuring smile. "You're safe now."

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

As the girl drifted back into a restful slumber, Jasper turned to Peter, his expression conflicted. "Peter, I don't understand. I felt a mate pull toward her, but she's a shapeshifter, and I'm a vampire. How is that possible?"

Peter's gaze held a knowing twinkle as he leaned against the cabin's wall. "Jasper, a vampire's mate can be anyone or anything. The connection transcends the boundaries of species. It's about souls that resonate with each other, regardless of form."

Jasper's brows furrowed, absorbing Peter's words. "But how can I feel a connection to her? I've felt a similar pull before, but it was never this strong."

Charlotte joined the conversation, her gentle smile reassuring. "Jasper, love is a powerful force. It can defy logic and expectations. Your experiences with Alice might have taught you caution, but that doesn't mean you should close yourself off to new possibilities."

Jasper's gaze drifted back to the girl, his heart a swirl of emotions. As he watched her, he realized that he had been given a second chance—a chance to discover a new kind of love, one that was based on honesty and mutual understanding.

Peter's words echoed in his mind, a reminder that love was not confined by the boundaries of species. As the night unfolded around them, Jasper's resolve strengthened. He would embrace this newfound connection, this unexpected mate pull, and allow it to guide him toward a future that held both promise and adventure.

As the girl began to regain her strength, Jasper sat by her side, his eyes never straying from her. She stirred, her eyelids fluttering open, and a soft smile curved her lips as she met his gaze.

"Hey," she whispered, her voice fragile but filled with gratitude.

Jasper returned her smile, a warmth spreading through him. "How are you feeling?"

"(Y/N)," she introduced herself, her voice carrying a hint of determination despite her weakened state. "And thanks to you and your friends, much better."

He nodded, a sense of kinship forming between them. "I'm Jasper."

She looked around the cabin, her gaze landing on Peter and Charlotte, who were watching with approving smiles. "You have good friends, Jasper."

"They're more like family," Jasper replied, his voice tinged with emotion. "They took me in when I needed it most."

Peter approached, a playful grin on his face. "And now it seems we're growing our family even more."

Charlotte nodded in agreement. "You're welcome to stay with us, (Y/N). Consider this cabin your home as well."

Tears glistened in (Y/N)'s eyes as she looked at the couple before her. "Thank you, both of you. I don't know how to repay your kindness."

Peter chuckled. "No need for repayment. We've been in similar situations before, and we believe in helping those in need."

As days turned into weeks, the cabin became a haven for (Y/N), much like it had been for Jasper when he first arrived. The bond between them grew stronger, a friendship forged in gratitude and shared experiences.

Jasper found himself drawn to (Y/N) in ways he had never imagined. Her resilience and kindness captivated him, and the mate pull he felt only intensified. He was no longer burdened by doubts or fears; instead, he embraced the connection that had formed between them.

As they spent time together, sharing stories and laughter, Jasper felt a deep sense of contentment. The pain of his past with Alice was slowly fading, replaced by the hope of a future with his true mate.

One evening, as the sun set and cast hues of orange and pink across the sky, Jasper found himself alone with (Y/N) on the porch. They sat side by side, the quietude of the moment speaking volumes.

"(Y/N)," Jasper began softly, his gaze fixed on the horizon, "I know we come from different worlds, but there's something between us that I can't ignore."

She turned to him, her eyes meeting his with a mix of curiosity and understanding. "I feel it too, Jasper."

He took a deep breath, his voice steady. "I've been hurt before, (Y/N). But with you, it's different. I want to embrace this connection between us, without reservation."

A smile graced her lips, a gentle affirmation. "I want that too, Jasper. I've never felt a bond like this before."

And in that moment, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Jasper knew he had found his true mate. The journey that had led him to (Y/N) was one of twists and turns, heartache and healing. But now, with her by his side and the support of Peter and Charlotte, he felt a sense of completeness that he had never known before—a love that transcended all boundaries and promised a future filled with hope and happiness.

[apocalypseornaw]

Fighting Hurts

Follow up to Love is a Fight

Set in my Always be Yours verse

Yall it's angst just be warned

Requested by @cat-lockwood

Weeks had passed since you left the bunker. The memory of the tears in Dean's eyes as you begged him to let you go tortured you. You knew it was best for you both, he'd be distracted with you there and christ chances were you'd probably end up well and truly dead before Amara ended her rampage but what choice did you have besides to go down swinging?

The cabin you were staying in was one Bobby had won off Rufus in a bet way back when. It was sturdy and didn't leak, plus it had electricy ran to it which was a plus considering most of Rufus' cabins didn't. The warding was painted onto every inch of the interior. It'd taken you the better part of a day.

You hated admitting you were scared but this time you were. You were alone, cut off from everyone you knew in fear that should Amara come after you it would put anyone else in her sights. You wouldn't answer any of Deans or Sam's calls. You knew if you even heard Dean's voice your resolve would break.

----------

After some consideration and a whole lot of literal cabin fever you decided a simple case wouldn't hurt. You ended up finding what looked like a simple salt and burn so you headed out on it, what was the worst that could happen?

Dean was losing his mind. Since you'd left Lucifer had possessed Cas and Chuck had revealed himself to be God. Chuck was willing to assist them against Amara, he wanted nothing more than to see her dead or at least caged back up then maybe you'd come home. You'd some home blocked your phone to the point that it would ring but Sam couldn't track you and damn your connections with the covens littered around the states you were warded to the point Chuck couldn't find you.

He was scared that the truth was something had happened to you, you were gone and had died thinking he'd pick anyone over you.

----------

He watched the numbers flash by on the laptop in front of him "Cmon Amara. Where the hell are you?" "Hello Dean" he looked up to see her at the end of the table much the same way she'd been those weeks ago that drove you out of his arms.

She smiled "I missed you. It's been a while since we've spoken. I'm aware my brother has resurfaced. If he should reach out to you, he should that Lucifer his favorite isn't doing so well" before Dean could ask what she meant she waved her hand showing a tortured Cas or his vessel at least. "Say nothing of your friend Castiel"

There were burns over most of his face and he looked like he was barely hanging on. The image of Cas disappeared but Amara continued to speak "By ignoring me my brother is allowing this to happen along other things that should perk yours and Sam's interest"

She waved her hand again and an image of you appeared. You couldn't even stand like Cas could. You were curled into your self, the shirt you wore he recognized as one you took from his drawer. It was ripped down the spine and he could see what looked like bone sticking free from your skin "I must say Y/N is strong for a human. I can almost see your attraction to her" Dean was on his feet the moment the image of you disappeared "Let her go"

Amara smiled "My brother simply needs to come out of hiding and I may end her suffering"

You felt your body tense just from hearing Amara's voice "Oh Lucifer she isn't dead is she?" You pushed yourself up to lean against Lucifer's legs, the fact that he was wearing Cas as a vessel gave you comfort because you could almost imagine it was Cas.

Lucifer looked down at you weakly "This one? I've already killed her once and it didn't stick" Amara laughed wickedly "She is something isn't she? Drew the attention of not one but two Winchesters"

Lucifer looked at you again as Amara continued "Oh yes she betrayed Dean, with his brother and yet assumes he'd ever chose her over me" you felt tears hit your eyes but Lucifer moved his leg to get your attention and shook his head. Unfortunately Amara noticed. "Tsk tsk tsk. Can't have you two bonding" with that she used her powers to electrocute Lucifer as you felt her shadows dig into your back again. Your screams mixed with his, echoing in the silo.

Working with Metatron, being Amara bait..anything Dean was getting you back.

---------

You were barely conscious, focusing on your breathing. You knew you wouldn't die, you'd gotten close over the last few days but Amara would heal you to start to process again. She'd finally left after rubbing salt into your wounds that Dean had called out to her.

You laid next to where Lucifer was tied, knowing it was useless to try to run. A familiar sound hit your ears and you told yourself you were imagining it but as it got closer you realized you weren't. That was the impala.

"Y/N!" You heard Sam's voice and flinched away from it. How could you face him or Dean? Amara was right, you were poison to the Winchesters. You'd nearly caused one brother to kill the other. You felt his hands on your face and started to sob "Please don't touch me. Just let die"

You could hear Metatron reciting incantations to free you and Lucifer but couldn't summon the energy to ask "Take him Sam. He can help get rid of her" Sam had you up in his arms the moment he could and was carrying you to the impala "GET HIM FREE METATRON. I'LL COME BACK FOR HIM"

Sam laid you down gently on the backseat, carefully of the areas that made you whimper in pain "It's gonna be ok Y/N. I promise" he pulled his jacket off to lay over you then ran back into the silo.

A few moments later the older guy who'd been with Sam and Metatron jumped in next to you and Sam squealed tires leaving with Lucifer in the front seat next to him.

----------

You must have passed out because Sam slamming on brakes brought you back around to see Amara standing in the road. "Sam" you called weakly, knowing the four of you had no chance against her.

Sam threw the impala into reverse but Amara stopped it. "You really aren't worth sparing. None of you" she leaned her head back and you knew this was it. You closed your eyes, feelings tears slip down your face. "We're gonna die" was the only thought that went through your head when suddenly the impala slammed down in...the bunker?

---------

"What happened?" The older guy hollered. Sam cut his eyes at Lucifer then climbed out to help you but you pushed his hands away despite barely being able to stand on your own.

You slowly followed him and Lucifer up the stairs to find Chuck in the war room. You were leaning heavily against the wall as Chuck said "Occasionally I do answer a prayer" so Chuck was God.

He looked from Lucifer to you before snapping his fingers. You took a deep breath, no longer in physical pain. You had no clue what was going on or where Dean was but you felt a wave of dizziness wash over you and the next thing you knew the room went dark.

"What the hell do you mean she passed out? Didn't you heal her?" Dean asked Chuck in nearly a growl. He'd gotten back to the bunker to news you'd barely been alive, was healed then passed out. Sam was in the infirmary with you on the phone with Rowena as to what could bring you around.

"I healed her physical wounds Dean. Amara tortured her, strong or not Y/N is human" Dean pushed past him and headed for the infirmary.

----------

Sam had Rowena on speaker as he sat at your bedside. Rowena didn't even like Crowley, her own son but for you? She'd dropped what she was doing to find a spell to help and was doing it. The moment she was done you started to stir "It worked Rowena. She's coming around" "Well of course it did Samuel. Now if the poor dear needs a way out of that mad house tell her to call me" with that she hung up.

----------

You felt like you were drowning, the way waves would let you come up for air only to shove you down again. You could feel something pulling you out but didn't know what until you recognized the accent. Rowena. You held onto her voice with everything you had until your eyes opened to the bright fluorescents in the infirmary.

You could hear voices. First Rowena and Sam then Dean's voice joined. You couldn't focus. You just laid there trying to breathe. What had Amara done to you?

---------

Dean stopped at the door of the infirmary the moment he saw your still form. "Sam?" He called rooted to the spot. He couldn't see you dead, he wasn't strong enough to lose you..

"She's alive Dean. Amara just damaged her psyche, she blocked her aura according to Rowena. She's conscious but not really alert" Dean felt a weight lift from his chest. You were alive.

---------

He crossed the few steps to the bed and gently touched your hand "Sweetheart?" Your eyelids fluttered before they slowly opened. As they did you snatched your hand away from him "Dean?"

He tried not to show the hurt he felt at you pulling away. "You're home Y/N... its gonna be ok" He attempted a smile but you started to cry "I can't Dean. Not right now. I love you but please you and Sam just give me some space"

He could feel his heart shatter but he nodded "Of course. If you need anything just holler ok?" You nodded, nearly hyperventilating from the tears. He wanted nothing more than to hold you but knew that would make it worse. "I love you" he whispered before Sam nearly pulled him from the room.

------------

Dean walked into the war room, feeling as if his feet weighed a hundred pounds a piece. You were so damn broken and why? Because you loved him. "Dean?" Sam asked, touching his shoulder but he tensed up "Not now Sammy. Not now"

[steddieas-shegoes]

Another request idea! I was listening to What a Time To Be Alive by Fall Out Boy and the line "But, baby, please, I just need someone to hold me Even though you don't even know me" struck me as a particularly good steddie prompt. Maybe some hurt/comfort? Thanks for even reading this request!

Full disclosure: I never got really into FOB. I mean obviously love their classics. Anything that was on the radio I liked it just fine. But I did have to go listen and look up the lyrics for this one because just that line had me going feral with an idea. I've read a few fics where Steve and Eddie meet at a party, which honestly makes a lot of sense canonically. Eddie has the goods, parties need the goods, Steve threw a lot of parties. This is a slightly different take on that premise. It's a LOT of hurt, and a LOT of comfort. Steve is kind of pitiful actually, and I love that for him. Eddie's super into it too. Also tagged it light dom/sub because of nonsexual type things that happen while Eddie is comforting Steve. To me, since they didn't have a discussion about it and aren't in a relationship, it could just be seen as one dude kind of being a little pushy when taking care of another dude, but that tag doesn't exist so here we are. I hope this gets posted in time for you to cry in the school pick up line! - Mickala ❤️

---------------------------------------------------------

Steve should not have come to this party. Tommy always threw a huge one at the end of the year, right when his parents left for their anniversary vacation, and Steve always came.

But this year was the first year he hadn’t been invited by Tommy.

He really hadn’t been invited at all, but it was just common knowledge that it was happening here and now, so here he was.

No more crown, hanging onto his sanity by a thread, and his only friends were barely 13 years old.

Being a wallflower was a new thing for him.

He watches from the corner of the kitchen, sees the people he used to call friends getting drunk, getting high, dancing. It doesn’t seem fun anymore.

He’s glad that’s not him anymore.

So why does he feel like crying?

He holds it in, takes small sips of his beer, focusing on the bitter taste. He didn’t even like beer. Just drank it to maintain the King of Keg Stands crown

As the night drags on, it sinks in that he just doesn’t fit in this world anymore. It wasn’t made for him, he wasn’t made for it.

He didn’t really fit anywhere.

He choked back a sob, rushing out the back door of the house and down to the pond that Tommy and his dad fished out of.

No one ever went out here, too worried about bugs or snakes, but Steve couldn’t find it in himself to care right now.

His legs gave out when he reached the dock, his body sinking down to the wood below him as he felt tears fall down his face.

It wasn’t a panic attack, he’d had plenty of those, made it through plenty of them on his own. This was just sadness.

He was alone out here, not even the noise of the party to keep him company.

He was alone everywhere, really.

Sure, he had the kids. But they were kids. They hung out with him because he protected them, not because they thought of him as a friend.

His parents hadn’t been home in nearly six months, hadn’t called in two, didn’t even seem interested in the fact that he was graduating high school.

Nancy didn’t give him the time of day, nor should she after everything that happened.

The friends he grew up with, the friends he thought would be there for him, ended up being terrible.

“Shit, Harrington? Is that you?”

Steve sniffed.

He couldn’t be found like this, his reputation would suffer even more, somehow.

He wiped his eyes quickly, hoping that it was dark enough the other person wouldn’t see the movement.

“Uh, yep,” Steve managed to say after a deep breath, surprised that his voice didn’t sound as wrecked as he felt.

He turned around and saw Eddie Munson walking up the dock.

Everyone knew Eddie only got invited to these parties because he sold weed. Eddie himself only came to the parties because he knew he could make a killing just for showing up for an hour or two.

The only times he’d ever spoken to Eddie were to make sure he showed up for his own parties, offering him a tip of $20 just to come well-stocked.

He always came, never accepted the tip, and usually left a rolled joint in Steve’s room at the end of the party.

He didn’t think he did that for everyone, but he was too scared that it would stop if he asked.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Just felt like fishing,” Steve responded, slapping his hand against his face as soon as he said it.

“With your bare hands in the dark?” Eddie snorted. “I will give you free weed for a year if you can manage to do that right now.”

Steve cracked a small smile.

“Make it free weed for life and I may consider hopping in and giving it a try.”

Eddie’s laugh filled the night, loud and full of life. Something Steve needed to hear.

But Eddie sobered quickly, watching as Steve looked down at his lap.

“Needed a break from the party?”

“Guess so.”

“It didn’t seem like you were doing much in there.”

Steve just shrugged, not sure how to explain without crying again.

But apparently Eddie wasn’t going to let him get away with that.

“Heard about you and Nancy, man. Sorry it didn’t work out,” Eddie said, nudging his shoulder with his hand.

He was really close, close enough for Steve to feel the warmth radiating from his body. It was that awkward time between spring and summer, and the night was warm, but it still felt nice.

He hadn’t had someone so close to him on purpose in a long time. Maybe if he scooted an inch to the left, he would brush against Eddie’s hand just right and-

“Shit, you’re crying again,” Eddie said.

His hand was suddenly on Steve’s shoulder, and Steve shivered at the contact.

He closed his eyes and realized that, yes, he was crying again.

Dammit.

Warm, strong arms were wrapping around him, pulling him tight against an equally warm, strong chest.

He let out a sob, his chest hurting with the effort it took to hold in as much noise as he could.

A hand was in his hair, fingers carefully running through the length of it.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Let it out. I got ya,” Eddie was saying quietly against the top of his head, his breath sending shivers down Steve’s spine.

Steve couldn’t catch his breath. The way Eddie was holding him, talking to him, caring for him, it was more than he’d ever really had.

He knew he’d never see or talk to Eddie again, so why not embarrass himself?

“Match my breaths, Stevie,” Eddie calmly tried getting him to calm down.

And he could if he tried, he knew he could. He wasn’t having a panic attack, just a breakdown he’d been meaning to have for a year now. He needed to get it out.

“Look at me.”

Eddie’s tone was different now, deeper and difficult to ignore.

Steve looked at him, eyes wide, wet with tears still falling. His nose was running, he could feel it starting to drip, but Eddie was holding him tightly, and he couldn’t move his hands to try to wipe his face at all.

“Good boy.”

Steve shivered again. He blamed it on a chill in the air, but he knew that they both knew there was no chill in the air.

The air was humid, a rainstorm expected the next day keeping the environment around them stale and still.

“You can cry as much as you want, but you have to breathe. Understand?”

Steve nodded, taking in a shaky breath.

“Better,” Eddie smiled, his face still showing concern, but relaxing when Steve started taking more frequent, slow breaths.

He felt less tears gather and fall the more breaths he took, his eyes never leaving Eddie’s smiling face.

“Doing better, sweetheart?”

Steve nodded, but he still felt the lingering loneliness, knew that when Eddie left him, he’d be back to square one.

“What’s got you so upset, huh?”

Steve shrugged, letting his head rest on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Did someone hurt you?”

What a loaded fucking question that was.

Yeah, a lot of people hurt Steve, for as long as he could remember, emotionally and physically.

But he wasn’t about to spill his guts to Eddie, even if he was being nice. He didn’t know the guy enough to start talking about his abandonment issues.

Eddie’s hands were running along his back, soft and then harder, soft again, then settled in his lower back.

His hands were big, bigger than Steve’s even, and his fingers were long. His splayed out hands covered all of Steve’s lower back area.

He felt covered, protected.

He didn’t want to get up.

“Steve, if someone hurt you, you need to tell someone. It doesn’t have to be me, but maybe your parents or the counselor.”

“Can’t tell my parents if they’re the ones who hurt me,” Steve spoke before realizing what he was saying.

It hit him so suddenly, he started to pull away, a small whimper leaving his body without his consent.

But Eddie wasn’t letting him go, tightened his arms around him and shushed him gently.

“Hey, stay with me. We don’t have to talk about it, let me just hold you a bit more.”

Steve gave in. He couldn’t understand why, or how, or what was running through his mind. He just knew the way Eddie was holding him made him feel whole for maybe the first time in his life.

He chased that feeling, sinking further into Eddie’s chest and letting the man rock him back and forth slowly.

Thinking went out the window as one of Eddie’s hands slowly brushed through his hair, then a finger slowly traced along his hairline, down his jaw, over his lips.

The whimper he let out now had nothing to do with being upset.

“Okay, sweetheart?”

“Why are you being nice to me?”

Eddie’s fingers froze, but only for a moment. Steve knew he’d never outright bullied Eddie, had probably been nicer to him than most of his friends had, but it didn’t change the fact that he’d never been particularly kind either.

His finger moved back along his lip, then up along his nose, then to his forehead. It was like he was trying to commit everything to memory, soaking every moment of this up because he didn’t think he’d have it again.

And maybe he wouldn’t.

But Steve wanted this to happen again when he wasn’t having a mental breakdown in Tommy’s backyard.

“Because sometimes there’s a lot more to people than what everyone sees and I think I see you a lot better than most people do. I don’t need you to explain anything to know you’re hurting and you don’t deserve to be.”

He said it like it was simple, like it made all the sense in the world for him to comfort him.

Maybe to him it did.

“But I was an asshole.”

“You were. But it doesn’t take a genius to see you aren’t anymore.”

“How do you know that?”

Eddie was quiet for a minute, his fingers moving back to Steve’s hair and tugging gently so he had to pull away from his chest and look at him.

“The old Steve would have never even given me a chance to help. He also wouldn’t have been standing by the wall for a party like this or escaping to a secluded area to cry. The old Steve wouldn’t be looking at me like you are right now.”

“How am I looking at you?”

“Like you want me to kiss you,” Eddie smiled.

He said it easily. Like saying it wouldn’t have made most other guys punch him immediately.

“And if I do?”

“You’ll have to ask nicely. You may be a changed man, but I do deserve some manners.”

Steve smiled at him, his charm replacing any lingering sadness.

“Oh? So if I were to lean in and kiss you that would be rude? I need to say please?”

Even in the dark, Steve could see Eddie blushing.

“I’m not stopping you,” Eddie finally said, voice strong despite the redness of his cheeks.

“So if I said please, you’d kiss me?” Steve asked as he inched closer, his breath hot against Eddie’s lips.

“If you said please, I’d do anything you wanted,” Eddie gasped out.

“Please kiss me,” Steve breathed out, his lips gently grazing against Eddie’s.

Eddie pushed forward the final centimeters, his lips warm and wet against Steve’s.

They both groaned into the kiss, Eddie’s hands cupping Steve’s jaw to keep him there.

Steve moved so he could straddle Eddie’s lap, his hands resting on Eddie’s shoulders as he finally gained the higher ground.

He realized quickly he didn’t want it, not with Eddie.

He let out a whimper and Eddie pulled away for a moment, but only to smirk and nudge him back.

“This dock isn’t gonna collapse under us, is it?”

“Don’t know,” Steve supplied as he settled on his back, Eddie hovering over him.

“Guess we’ll have to find out.”

Eddie’s lips were back on his, demanding, but slow.

Minutes passed, maybe hours.

Steve felt safer than he ever had, here under Eddie, with every possibility that someone could find them eventually and not giving a shit about it.

Eddie would keep him safe.

He didn’t know Eddie well, but he knew that much.

No one who helped a known asshole when he was having a breakdown at a party would just leave him to be beat up for kissing a dude.

The way Eddie touched him, rough hands fluttering over any place his skin was visible, lips and tongue making new patterns against his own, it felt like Steve was being cherished, appreciated, loved.

If this was all he ever got, if this is all he ever felt and tasted of Eddie, he thinks it would be enough.

Or it wouldn’t and he would never feel like this again.

“You’re thinking too loud, sweetheart,” Eddie mumbled against his lips.

“Just feels good,” Steve added, placing another kiss against his lips.

He could feel the shift, the way Eddie was slowing down, pulling away inch by inch.

It wasn’t enough.

Steve whimpered.

“Sh. It’s okay, Stevie. We’re just pausing for now,” Eddie moved back, kissing his forehead before there was too much space between them.

He heard voices in the distance, a reminder that the party was still happening and possibly wrapping up.

“Did you drive here?”

“I walked.”

“You walked?”

Eddie sounded upset.

“I’m only a street away. Not a long walk.”

“I’ll drive you back to yours. Walking this late after so many idiots have been drinking and plan to drive is dangerous.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“I’m not a damsel in distress or whatever they’re called.”

“Ah, but you are. Crying alone outside in the dark, waiting for a big, strong man to come save you? My chariot awaits!” Eddie was helping him stand as he spoke, then bowed and gestured towards the road where his van must have been parked.

Steve couldn’t help the laugh he let out.

Yeah, maybe he was a damsel in distress. Maybe he would let Eddie rescue him.

Maybe he didn’t have to be so lonely, at least for tonight.

[casdeans-pie]

Part 4 of Flustered Castiel Accidentally Explodes Lightbulbs And Causes Power Outages Especially When Dean's Fingers Are In His Hair

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3.

Happy birthday to me! This is my birthday gift to myself so it's deliciously self indulgent for the final part. I honestly could have just kept going with this forever, I adore flustered!Cas and his angel powers lmao

This part got so big I couldn't put the whole chapter in the tumblr post sorry!

Taglist: @dreampencil , @mymisfitsbabe , @fivefeetfangirl , @kerryweaverlesbian , @give-bucky-his-boyfriend-back , @mooshroomister , @castielsbloodynose , @the-great-pumpkin-67 , @casavanse , @homoangel - thanks all for your interest, hope you like the conclusion!!

-----Read on AO3-----

---------

If stubbornness was a sin, Dean knew he would be going straight to hell when he died. Again.

There were a million reasons that Dean could think of for why Cas had distanced himself (that buzzed around his brain like insistent bees whenever he lay down to sleep at night) but if they didn’t talk about them then none of them were real. The ache in his chest at Cas’s absence, familiar from when he used to leave them for stretches at a time, felt like it dug in deeper and deeper with every passing day – but he still just couldn’t bring himself to talk to him about it.

The biggest surprise became the slow realisation that the saying ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ wasn’t just some made up cliché bullshit that people said to each other, because seeing Cas, even briefly before he scurried away, made Dean’s heart sing like a lovesick teenage girl.

Sam only suffered through so much before he started using his Sad-Sam-Eyes whenever he saw them both, hoping they would finally sort out whatever was going on between them, but he didn’t mention it otherwise. Somehow that made it even worse. If Sam told them to talk to each other, at least that could have been a good excuse. But no.

Dean had to do something on his own.

He had to.

He’d started all of this by being a jerk about Cas’s powers, so it was time to dip into that Dean Winchester Courage, have a real conversation about all of this, and face losing his best friend – the Angel that he loved – head on.

------

Then they finally had a hunt together. Alone.

Dean’s bloody machete hung in a loose grip by his side as he kicked the toe of his boot at the decapitated body on the ground beside him. The head lay nearby.

“Think we finally got ‘em all,” Dean said with a grin. His clothes were covered in splashes of blood, and he could feel some drying on his cheek that he was itching to scratch off with his nail. “I love a good vamp nest clear-out, but if I’d have known there were gonna be this many, I would’ve brought Sam as extra back-up.” Dean didn’t want to mention that the reason he’d told Sam to stay behind in the first place was because he’d finally stopped being chickenshit scared about sorting this thing out with Cas. “Not that we didn’t handle it.” He gestured towards the headless bodies scattered around them with his machete.

Cas didn’t reply. He’d been quiet in the ride over and had kept his distance for the whole fight.

Okay. Time’s up. Time to do this. Dean took a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes. “Cas, listen-”

“Dean!” Cas yelled, slamming into him just as the sound of a gunshot exploded nearby.

Dean went hurtling down as another gunshot rang out. He landed heavily – the floor winded him and disorientated him enough that he couldn’t get straight back up, and he shook his head rapidly to try to clear it.

There were sounds of Cas wrestling with the vampire nearby. Dean watched dazedly as the vampire snarled and bared his fangs as he threw a punch at Cas’s nose, and his fist connected with a thud. But that gave Cas the opportunity to wrench the gun out of the vampire’s weakened grasp, and he tossed it aside, making it skitter harmlessly across the floor into a dark corner of the warehouse.

Red bloomed through the top of Cas’s trench coat on his left shoulder.

“Cas!” Dean warned, finally scrambling to his feet just as the vampire grabbed Cas and threw him down with a hiss onto the dusty, blood-spattered floor.

The vampire loomed over him with an open mouth full of needle-sharp teeth just as Cas sat up with a grunt and threw up his hand with his palm out. Dean recognised the gesture, and he immediately braced himself for the blinding light of Cas’s angelic smitey powers, but only a faint sputtering glow emerged from his hand.

After a moment, where Cas stared at his hand in confusion, the vampire hissed and lunged.

He never got any further.

Dean’s machete swung in a clean shining arc through the vampire’s neck, and he collapsed in a heap like a puppet with cut strings. The spray of blood caught Cas, smattering his face and hair with even more crimson alongside what currently trickled out of his nose and soaked his shoulder.

Dean groaned in relief and threw the machete to the concrete floor with a clang. “Definitely the last one,” he declared with a deep breath. “Damn that got close for a second there. Come on, up you get.” Dean offered out a hand to help Cas, but he pushed himself up with a groan instead, pointedly not looking at the hand as if he hadn’t noticed it.

Dean tried to shrug it off again, just like he had all the other times that Cas refused to touch him recently, but he could feel the hurt burning in his throat and behind his eyes. He clenched his fist so tightly it almost hurt as he returned it to his side.

“You okay?” Dean asked instead with a frown, thinking of the gunshots, and noticing the blood stain on Cas’s shoulder increasing in size.

“Yes. The first bullet got me, but the second bullet missed. I think it went clean through. Didn’t hit anything vital.” Cas touched his shoulder and winced, then observed Dean – his blue eyes raking him up and down from head to foot. “What about you? Are you hurt?”

Dean shook his head, the mixture of hurt and concern and happiness at the closest attention he’d got from Cas in weeks making his words come out harsher than he intended when he snapped, “Nope. My bullet-proof friend pushed me out of the way, and then revealed that he’s not so bullet-proof today.”

Cas smiled ruefully. “Ah. Yes. Looks that way.” He dusted his trench coat off as best he could and lifted an arm to wipe his sleeve across his nose – though he only succeeded in smearing the dust and blood around. He closed his eyes and rubbed again.

Dean pushed down his confusing cocktail of emotions, like he always did, and forced on a smile. “You’re just making it worse, buddy. Why’s killing vamps always such a bloody job?” He reached over without thinking, while Cas was still rubbing at his nose. “Nose doesn’t look broken at least, but your shoulder’s probably gonna need stitches while you’re low on power like this.”

Dean’s fingers had barely even grazed the fabric on Cas’s shoulder before Cas flinched back violently.

The lights in the warehouse groaned and buzzed as they flickered and dimmed, and then just as quickly returned to normal.

Cas’s eyes were wide as he took another step back.

Dean felt all his confusion sharpen into a frustrated stab of white-hot anger. He gestured violently at the ceiling. “Okay. Y’know what. That’s it. Let’s talk. What the hell is going on with you, Cas? Why have you been avoiding me? What’s the deal with the lights?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Nothing you need to know about.”

“Nothing I- are you even hearing yourself right now? You’re really gonna admit to keeping secrets again after everything we’ve been through? And- hey, what’s up with your face? What are you doing?”

Cas had screwed his eyes together so tight that it pinched his whole expression. “Concentrating.”

“On what? This conversation that you’re trying not to be in?”

“On using my Grace to heal my shoulder and clean all of this off, but it’s not…” Cas gritted his teeth and opened his eyes. They glowed faintly. “It’s not working.”

Dean took a deep breath and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Shit, Cas. You know you’re low on power right now, you really want to use up what little juice you got left before you get chance to recharge? The motel’s only twenty minutes away.” He scowled. “You can even sit in the back. Far away from me, like you want.”

Dean didn’t wait for a response, he turned, reached down for his abandoned machete, and stalked back to Baby.

By the time Cas finally got into the car – in the back – Dean had already texted Sam to tell him that the nest had been cleared out and they would be spending the night at the motel.

They’d be back at the bunker tomorrow, and then Cas could keep avoiding him like before. Or maybe he’d finally just admit that he wanted to leave… and he’d go. The thought made Dean clench the steering wheel with a grip that made his knuckles white.

He couldn’t imagine his life without Cas in it.

The ride to the motel was tense and silent except for Baby’s engine that Dean pushed harder than he should. (The twenty-minute ride only took them ten. Cas didn’t comment on it.)

As soon as they were through the door Dean toed off his shoes, flicked on all the lights, and went to wash his hands in the bathroom. He didn’t look back to see what Cas was doing. It was none of his business. If he didn’t want to talk about it, then what did he care. (He tried to tell himself, even as the ache in his chest pounded and felt cavernous.)

Dean splashed some water on his face and gripped the sides of the grubby sink. Water plinked pink from his chin into the chipped basin, as the vampire blood washed away down the plughole.

After a deep breath Dean grabbed a towel and rubbed it over his face, careful not to inhale at the same time – he’d learned a long time ago that it was best not to know what motel towels smelt like – and reached for the first aid kit he always left in the bathroom when they went on hunts.

Sufficiently calmed down, and feeling less like his heart was caught in the vice grip of a homicidal ghost, Dean turned and emerged back into the main room. He froze mid-step at what he saw: Cas had his head in his hands, perched on the edge of his bed, while the blood stains from his bullet wound were soaking through his coat down his arm. He hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, and there seemed to be a particularly troubled tenseness to the set of his shoulders. Even more than usual. Despite their strained relationship recently, it cut Dean deeply to see him like that – so clearly suffering and so human.

Dean sat heavily onto his own bed opposite Cas. The old springs creaked loudly and protested at the sudden weight. “Alright. Coat off.”

Cas startled and snapped his head up. The lamp beside his bed flickered weakly. “What?”

Dean’s usual enthusiasm for the phenomenon of the flickering lights wasn’t his priority this time, and he pushed his curiosity aside. “Stitches,” Dean said simply, brandishing the first aid kit.

“I don’t need them,” Cas grumbled, looking away. “Once my Grace has recharged enough it will heal on its own.”

“Oh okay, so you’re just going to wait and see if your mojo recharges faster than you bleed? And you’re, what, expecting me to just sit here while we find out? Because I am not okay with that.”

“Yes.”

“Cas. Just let me put some damn stitches in your damn shoulder.”

“No.” The muscles in Cas’s jawline clenched.

Dean scowled as he ran a hand through his hair. It was sticky and matted with drying blood, but that was nothing new. “Let me put it this way. You either take off your coat and shirt willingly, or I will tackle you to that bed and remove them myself” – the lamp flickered again – “so help me God, don’t think that I won’t. Your choice.” Dean had his eyes locked on Cas’s narrowed ones. “I will not let you suffer when I can do something about it. Yeah, you might heal it up yourself in an hour or two, but I’m not going to sit here watching you bleeding and in pain, when I can help. Don’t ask me to.”

“Dean… This is just… It’s a bad idea.”

“A bad idea? To stop you from bleeding out? C’mon man, you’re always healing me up after hunts, let me repay the favor for once. Besides, you took the shot meant for me – it should be me sitting there with the bullet hole.”

Cas went suddenly pale, and his eyebrows drew together in a serious line. “If it were, I would use up whatever Grace I had left to heal you.”

Oh.

Dean blinked in surprise.

Huh. But Cas had been avoiding him so much lately... He’d assumed he didn’t care anymore. “Uh,” Dean faltered, “no, that wouldn’t be okay either. I wouldn’t want that. But maybe I should teach you some basic first aid now that your mojo gets patchy sometimes.” He shook his head. That would require them to be in the same room for more than five minutes. Stupid suggestion. “Look, if you’d want to heal me that badly if we were swapped over here, that’s what I want to do to you right now, get it?”

“I um. I think so.” The line between Cas’s eyebrows grew deeper. “It’s fine now anyway. It barely hurts,” he lied, gripping his shoulder tightly.

“Sure. Okay, Black Knight.”

Cas squinted.

“The Black Knight – ‘‘tis but a flesh wound’? Guess you didn’t get Monty Python in the pop-culture upload. We’ll add it to the list we-” But Dean remembered that they didn’t watch movies together anymore. “Doesn’t matter. Just take your damn coat off, you stubborn son of a bitch.”

That finally cracked a smile onto Cas’s pale face. His lips twitched and the corners of his eyes crinkled endearingly.

Dean felt a strong flare of affection at seeing Cas’s smile, after seeing him looking so defeated before, that it immediately softened all of Dean’s concern-masked-as-irritation and he found himself smiling back. He’d missed this. So damn much.

“I’ll patch you up,” Dean said gently, “then you get dibs on the first shower, since you’re the one covered in the most blood. Winchester tradition.”

“I don’t need-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you can just magic your mess away when your power’s back on, but you’re really just gonna sit here like that until then?”

Cas looked down at himself. “You have a point.”

“Always do. Looks like you’ll just have to enjoy shitty motel water pressure like the rest of us.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows. “And going first means you get the hottest water.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said.

“Then we can both go to sleep so you can recharge your batteries. You can sleep when you’re like this, right? But stitches first. After that there’ll be no touching involved,” Dean added, before he could stop himself. As much as he enjoyed talking to Cas again, it only served as a depressing reminder that they weren’t like this anymore. He gave a sad, weak little laugh, and even he could hear the pain in his voice when he said, “Y’don’t even have to look at me.”

Cas immediately slid off his bed with a rustle, and he was on his knees in front of Dean in the time it took for him to open his mouth to ask what was happening. His eyes shined wetly in the dingy motel room lighting as he gazed up intensely – vulnerable and raw – into Dean’s eyes. “Dean, no. This wasn’t supposed to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you,” Cas said in a voice thick with emotion. “Doing this – distancing myself… It was supposed to make things better, but it… only made everything worse. I hate being apart from you. I hate it. This wasn’t- it’s not- it’s not your fault.” He spoke haltingly, like he was struggling. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I- I don’t know how to explain-”

They were closer than they had been in weeks, and yet Dean could still feel the distance. His heart sunk. “This is starting to feel a whole lot like the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech, man.”

Cas scrunched his face up, and Dean knew he was trying to think of a way to say what he meant. He wondered if Angels weren’t very big talkers in their true forms. It was reminiscent of when they first met, and how Cas used to struggle with sarcasm and slang.

Cas already told him once that he’d only started to feel real, strong emotions (Dean called them his Real Boy Feelings) since rescuing him from Hell, so it made sense that he still struggled sometimes. And anyway, Dean had been human his whole life and it wasn’t like he was much better at the whole sharing your feelings crap.

Cas finally looked up through his lashes at him – his expression wary. “Hold out your hand, Dean.”

“What?”

“Hold out your hand, please. I can show you what’s been going on.”

---- Read the rest on AO3 ----

[lightofraye]

Dean girl or Sam girl? (Or Castiel girl?) You say you're a fan of Supernatural so which one are you?

Hi anon!

Heh.

Okay. Never had this question before. I've been waiting.

Honestly... both of the boys.

Sam because he's sweet, loves to read, loves to learn, and when he was with Eileen, it was very sweet. He was considerate of her disability and tried to learn sign language to communicate with her. He gives with his whole heart. More, I could empathize with him enduring his father's abuse growing up, the lack of instability, and everything he went through. More, I'm proud of his strength to stand up to his father and leave that life. Even if he came back because of Dean.

Dean... god. Dean. Where do I begin? Broken Dean. Parentified Dean. Dean who gave up multiple chances to leave, because it mean leaving Sam behind and he just couldn't do that. He couldn't leave his brother to suffer their father alone. So he put aside multiple chances for happiness and went back to them, because of Sam. Broken Dean, because he went through so much he thought he was good for only one thing: to die in battle. Unworthy of being saved. Unworthy of being loved. I too see a lot in Dean that I see or saw in myself.

As for Cas... I never really grew overly fond of him. He had his moments, but no... Sam and Dean girl myself.

Bobby was a riot. Benny was a sweetheart, who didn't have much luck in his second chance of life (but he died being able to help Dean save Sam).